Stockholm Syndrome
by PunkiiRose
Summary: On an excavation, Bella just happens to come across something she was not supposed to have seen. Sometimes not asking questions is just best, and it'll keep you alive a lot longer. When the captive and capturer become close things are anything but simple, and everything but anticipated. ExB. ALL HUMAN.
1. Chapter 1

_Prod._

Huffing in sleepy annoyance, I turned on my side, away from the obnoxiously bright sunlight streaming through the bay window and tugged the sheets over my head.

_Prod prod._

I groaned and shook my shoulder away from the annoying entity disturbing my peaceful slumber.

_Prod prod, meow, prod._

"God, Cheese, you are such a bastard sometimes, I swear."

Said bastard made a low keening noise and nudged my shoulder again, a sad attempt at rolling me out of bed and into the kitchen for her breakfast. This is why I never purchased an alarm clock-I had my own living breathing one to wake me up.

Giving up, I threw the covers off and away from my body and scooped Cheesecake up into my arms as I swung my legs over the ledge of the bed. We meandered out of the bedroom and I grabbed a can of tuna off of the counter, waving it in my kitty's face.

"You see this, sweetie? If you ever roll mommy out of the bed and onto the floor like you tried to do this morning for some damn tuna, I'll have you shaved, understand?"

She mewed loudly, telling me off in cat, and twisted in my arms to get to the floor. I let her go, peeled the top back, and dumped the tuna out of the can and into her food bowl, setting the can beside her dish in case she wanted whatever was left.

I yawned my morning yawn and stretched my morning stretch as I combed my fingers through my hair, a goofy grin finding it's way on my face. Today was the day I'd been waiting for since the beginning of my long nine year career. Today was Olympic regional excavation day. No, not a holiday, but it certainly deserved to be one. For years, I'd been working my ass off for a pardon from the firm to visit the cave nestled high above the depressing town of Forks. Since I was a child, I'd always been completely fascinated with the cave mouth that was so far up from the town, so far and yet so close. It was large and inviting, beckoning me to pay a visit. I would pull on Charlie's sleeve, beg him to take me up to the summit just for a peek and every time he shot me down. I wouldn't take no for an answer forever. I pushed and pushed until the director of my firm gave me two weeks to dig up what I could.

Finally-_finally!_-I was going to get my chance to explore the Forks Crystal Cavern. The name was mostly for show. There were no actual crystals, I'd done the research, but the walls of the cave were rumored to be like sparkling diamonds. I skipped to the bathroom, singing some random song off-key and completed my morning ablutions, ignoring the mirror completely, followed by a hearty breakfast consisting of pesto scrambled eggs, sweet and spicy pecan bacon, cranberry almond caramel pancakes, and a cinnamon java brunch cocktail. I was being generous this morning, not to mention I would need all the energy and protein I could get for the hours I planned to spend on this project. If I could, my goal was to go nonstop for the big 24. I tidied up the kitchen, wrapped the left overs up and place them on shelves in the fridge to go get dressed.

I had to go casual today. No pencil skirts or skinny jeans. I opted for low riders, a sweater and a baseball cap to go with my tennis shoes. Charming, no? Just as I finished dressing I got a text from Rosalie as per every sun up.

_**Morning Sunshine. Excited for your nerd retreat today?**_

**Morning yourself. And as a matter of fact I am.**

_**Good to hear. At least I don't have to put up with your hyper ass anymore. Make me anything good?**_

**Eggs. . .**

_**Spicy?**_

**Yep. Bacon. . .**

_**Spicy?**_

**Yep. Fruity pancakes. . .**

_**Extra fruity?**_

**You know it.**

_**Oh, how you spoil me, Swan.**_

**Pop your blonde ass over here when you get a chance and cop my fridge. Share with Alice. I'll make you a cocktail when I decide to come back home.**

_**Sounds like a plan. Have fun, sweetheart and call me if anything.**_

**I plan on it.**

If there was anyone that I could depend on in my profession it was Rose, one of only a handful of females in my firm. She empathized like no other when we were trying to make it in a "male business". We dust rocks and find old artifacts. How manly did you really need to be? Rose didn't enjoy handling the dirty work, though, and I only got to see her in action when I got some action myself. She was a laboratory supervisor and she always got the job done, no nonsense or bologna to it. I giggled. Bologna. Rose, Alice and myself all attended college together, received our advanced degrees in anthropology together, but went our separate ways in terms of career paths, being sure to remain in the same firm.

Thinking back on how I managed to get this far made me a tad nostalgic. I wriggled my low riders up my hips and went to my study, eying my very first trowel that sat gritty and pretty under a glass case beside the wall. I let my fingertips graze it lightly and smiled at the memories we had. No, being a field technician, otherwise known as a shovel bum, was never a fun thing to do but it made some money and it was a prerequisite to get any farther as an aspiring archaeologist. Alice became a graphic artist, my little helper when it came to archaeological investigations and report writing so I saw her just about anytime I felt the urge to.

Me? I became a PI and I love my job more than anything under the sun. Almost more than I loved my cat. . . or orange tropical sunrise daiquiris. It was anything but easy getting to this position that I'm in now. I worked my ass off and eventually it paid off; that and I burrowed a niche in the firm manager's, Esme's, big welcoming spot of favorites. She was like a mother and mentor to me and without her I'd still be digging for minimum wage.

Cheesecake's soft pads entering the room brought me back from my thinking. She sat in the doorway, stared at me for a moment, and went to cleaning her bum. Charming.

When it was time to go, I packed my lunch bag, dawned my coat, and brought Cheese next door to stay with my neighbor Lauren for a few days. At one point in time, I was scared that Lauren wanted to rape my cat because of the way she stared at the feline's fanny. To this day, I make sure to keep a close eye.

The team was set to meet at the rendezvous point and skip going to the office altogether. I hoped they brought donuts. Once outside I climbed into my Jeep and started down the long narrow streets of Port Angeles until I was on the highway when I got a text from Alice.

**Hi Bella!**

**Not now. Driving.**

**Like you can't multitask.**

**I can, but I prefer to ignore you.**

**Whatever. Make me anything good today?**

**Is that all you whores text me for? To find out if I made you food?**

**No, there are other reasons.**

**Waiting. . .**

**I texted you last night making sure you got home safe!**

**No, you texted me last night to make sure my zucchini bread got home safe.**

**Well maybe I was checking on the both of you!**

**Save it. Rose is gonna bring you leftovers from this morning.**

**Spicy and fruity?**

**You know it, pixie.**

**Perfect! Love you, Bells. Have fun!**

**Will do, love.**

I pocketed my phone and drove as safely as I could through the thick Forks morning fog. I set the GPS and mindlessly drove through Forks, up a winding cliff and through a pants load of trees until I was there. I was _finally _there.

"Short trip," I muttered to myself, grabbing my things and slamming the car door shut. I'd yet to have the pleasure to set foot on the land but I knew coordinates and the whole nine from research alone.

My heart would forever go swollen at seeing this-seeing my team up and moving and on the ball without my supervision, even though that's sort of what I'm paid to do. We were in a small clearing blanketed with two inch thick snow. Last night was a windy storm and though I loved me some snow, I didn't like hindrance to my work. My field technicians were working their asses off, shoveling the mouth of the cave clear of snow and I wanted to give them all big hugs for their work. Without a lawsuit for sexual harassment of course. Whatever small crop of land the shovel bums exposed the archaeobotanists and geoarchaeologists were on in a matter of seconds, observing and analyzing and collecting with such an intensity it seemed wrong to watch. Not much had to be done today. Before the project had been in my hands, the firm had been sending out scouts for about three years digging up what they could on this place. They didn't find much of interest but I had hope. Now, I was in no way an amateur in this field-far from it!-but exploring an unexcavated cave of such a magnitude gave me nerves like you wouldn't believe.

Forks Crystal Cavern was approximately 105, 600 feet in diameter; roughly 20 miles of pure unexplored cave. It was information that made me want to both masturbate and cry at the same time. I was responsible for just about this entire trip. Field techs, geoarches, archaeobots, an d zooarchs-even though they happened to be sitting on their asses right now. This was my hand picked tight knit little group and I felt my barely-there motherly senses kick in. These were my children for the length of this project and I had to-had to!-keep everyone safe or die trying.

"Bella! Can you believe it? We're finally here!"

I knew that sweet voice anywhere, one of my favorite voices to hear, in fact. I turned to see Angela practically bouncing in my direction with uncontained excitement. Other than me Angela had been one of the most adamant people suggesting we go out on this dig.

"I still to this very minute have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. After all of these years!" I gushed, throwing my arms around the best field supervisor a gal could ask for.

I shook my head before I broke out in a rant that only old age could stop. We talked casually for a few minutes then broke out in full on nerd terms as we discussed the schedule for today. We would first have the Heritage Environment Records transferred over for further review, followed by another viewing of topographical maps in order to scout the surrounding area. After the foreplay, we would dive straight into the main course: searching the cave. Barely two miles of it though. Our plate was loaded as it was and overwhelming ourselves was certainly not a bright idea. Immediately after, we would need a fully detailed report on every movement that was executed. I was ready to work, because they'd brought donuts.

It was just past noon when we were ready to enter the cave. Angela was at my right hand, awaiting my first move in to begin the tedious process of excavation. Every archaeologist had their own way of going about their job. Some preferred to just dive right in. I, on the other hand, was 100% careful not do to anything that seemed too outlandish, too extreme compared to how I'd originally found the site. I wanted to preserve the space as best as was physically possible and I wanted my team to reflect my views; they did. To a 't'.

I took a few steps until I was completely within it's mouth, my entire group behind me, mirroring my actions. It was almost comical. I took a few more steps, slowly and deliberately as I looked around me. It truly was beautiful. I let my eyelids flutter shut, to capture the moment before I would be able to fulfill a childhood dream that wreaked havoc upon my days and plagued my nights.

Only a few more, Swan.

I claimed those few yards that separated me and the cave as a whole and when I felt that cool, whistling breeze comb through my hair, sting my cheeks with it's frost and warm my belly with it's life, I knew I was home.

I let my eyes open and had my breath taken away from the beauty that reside here.

It was a large cavern, about 15 feet in height, 20 in width, and a beautiful iridescent glow shimmered lightly across surfaces at random, some every few feet, some within inches of each other before it reflected and bounced off another surface it's opposite and scattered along the cave floor. Stalactites covered the ceiling, the luminescence a glaze on it's enamel with lightly mossed tips that just barely connected with he stalagmites below it, forming pillars of varying sizes. The further inside, the steeper the decline of the floor. There was not one doubt in my mind that this cave was made of mostly limestone, but where did the water come from to make such an immaculate formation?

I was gripping the clipboard in my hand a little too tightly and the now broken skin of my palm was suffering the consequences. Knowledge made me intense, always had, always will. Questions? Questions made me stark raving, and for nothing in particular. This cave, I could tell, was going to both give me an infinite amount of knowledge and produce an innumerable count of questions. I felt a smile curl the ends of my lips as I thought of the fun to be had.

"Alright, everyone. Listen up." I prayed my voice wasn't as wavered as it sounded in my ears. "This is our first visit inside the cave but it most definitely will not be our last. Put on your gloves, have a look around, document everything and touch _nothing. _Leave it all as you found it and tomorrow we will be further investigating, understood? One hour and then we fill our reports. Have fun, guys."

Everyone went their own separate way and I implored Angela to supervise any stray hands with disobedient ears. I would have done it myself but I needed to examine things a little more critically. The scouts who pre-excavated before us swore that there was nothing interesting to the cave at all. Just the name alone proved them wrong! Clearly they hadn't even bothered to really look at the cave or even what was inside of it because there reports were hopelessly flawed and analysis' slacking. We have a cave consisting of sedimentary rock, pure calcium carbonate but their is definitely a precipitation of sea water coming from somewhere.

I briefly turned back to my team, looking as if I was just taking in the view of the rocks but step by baby step I was venturing further down the decline of the cave. When I was sure I was far enough away that no one saw me, I turned to the ever expanding tunnel and trekked further than ever documented before. This was monumental to me. Like the first man to walk on the moon. _The first woman to explore FCC. _It sounded silly. The deeper down I got, the hotter, the darker. I pulled my sweater over my head, thankful I'd worn a t-shirt beneath, and fished a flashlight out of my bag, flashing it through the mouth of where I was going. The crystals danced with light and blinded me for only a second before dimming again and creating a pathway. Another 10 minutes had passes and I was still on the move, going down further and further. Suddenly I see two mouths open before me. As I step through the naturally formed doorway, I notice a series of mouths are about me. Curiouser and curiouser. _Document this. Now!_

I slid my bag off my back and rummaged through for a pen and pad when, me being Bella, I dropped everything in my hands, including the flashlight. It was now pitch black and I could see not an inch in front of me. I felt around blindly for any solid objects but my hand encountered only a few things of interest. The pad I felt but I scooted it away from me, no longer needing it. The pen grazed my fingertips but I'd no use for that either. I felt my thermos of soup and thermos of coffee under my palms and went to rescuing them, placing them in the bag that sat right in front of me. It would have honestly take me years to find everything else so I decided to turn back without them; I'd instructed only an hour of sight seeing and I didn't want my team functioning solely without their Principle Investigator. I reached my hand out to feel in front of me and encountered nothing so I went in that direction.

It had been an entire thirty minutes of walking and I was positive it hadn't taken me that long to reach my checkpoint. I refused to think I'd gotten myself lost and just kept going. Another ten minutes and I was starting to feel the rejection of my body; it could not go on for much longer. _We're almost there, _I promised emptily. _Almost back with the others._I was wrong and I don't think I'd ever been more wrong in my life.

As I felt the strain and exhaustion make itself apparent the toe of my foot caught onto a rock and sent me flying forward. I pushed myself up with my arms, ignoring this fresh pain on my side as I tried to right myself. It took longer than expected.

When I was finally up, I was moving again. Pushing myself, I had to keep pushing. The cavern wall stretched forward for about another 15 feet before curving sharply. My brain immediately took note of the change but every other organ in my body ignored it and kept at it's pace. The wall curved left then right, and left again, like a maze. From there, it was another 30 yards or so before curving a tight switchback and elevating 4 or 5 feet off of the ground, giving me a glimmer of hope. The smooth cave floor was nothing but jagged rock and pebbles under my shoes compared to the smooth walk before. Again, those warning bells had gone off in my head but I ignored it, tired and willing to do anything for rest that was sure to come. I began walking again when I noticed that there was now the rustling of leaves and rock. I froze.

_How in the hell did leaves get so far in the cave?_

The next breath I took was my last as I was sent spiraling downward from the floor collapsing beneath my feet. Instinctively, I reached my hand out for anything solid to find purchase on but there was nothing but air whooshing through my agape fingers. I try to scream, try to make a noise but it is caught in my throat, muted. I want to cry but I cannot do that either. I want to die before my body reaches the ground but that is also impossible.

_So this is how I will find death. With no one to her me scream? No tears to shed? Hmm, is it ironic that my occupation is to uncover the past of those of eternal rest when I myself will now be joining them? Extremely._

That was my last thought before I blacked out. The last sound I heard was a grunt, and it did not come from me. The last thing I felt was an iron grip catch around my wrist and a towel be put to my face. The last thing I smelt was chloroform. And my last sight was of copper hair. . .


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Angel of Hell

The breeze, the smell of wet moss and dirt and the moistness of the air told me I was not in my bed, even before I opened my eyes. I roused slowly, hesitantly, the front of my skull throbbing with such an intensity I knew there might be marks on my forehead. A cool draft ghosted across my cheek, soothing some of the heat in my face. I did not open my eyes in fear that light would flood them and have my head implode. I felt extremely dizzy, even not moving, and my stomach was clenching in the most awful of ways, leaving me nauseous. I curled in on myself, biting back tears and a shudder of pure electricity ran down my spine-the towel of chloroform. . .the bronze hair. . .

I remembered the fall, how I'd gotten lost in the cave and ended up going through a pit fall. At least there was a reason to explain how it had gotten there. But who built it? Who set up the man catcher and who was the person with bronze hair?

I peeled my eyes open cautiously, still acutely aware of my headache, thankful that it was pitch dark. I twisted my torso a bit, outward, and winced at the gravel scraping across my exposed midriff. I lifted my arms to brush the offending rock away and paused at the clanking of metals. A dull pain crept up my arms from my wrists and I inhaled sharply, lowering them again. I was chained up. Experimentally, I flexed each of my ankles, rolling them around in small circles and was rewarded with another soft clanking, around my left ankle only. I closed my eyes and I took a deep breath, filling my lungs to their capacity before exhaling, the tremors in my shoulders leaving with the released air. The very last thing I needed was to have an anxiety attack with no one to help me. I instantly hated myself for not taking my Ativan this morning.

I counted to three-hundred before I was sure I was calm again. I stared at nothing for the few minutes following this, just breathing. I had many a panic attack in my life and with each treatment I picked up daily tactics to fight the fear off. I concentrated on one body part at a time, analyzing anything and everything. I curled my toes and felt the cotton of my sock; I rubbed my knees together and felt the denim scratch my skin; I could feel my sweater around me, keeping me warm in these dank surroundings but the hem was bunched up around my ribs.

So I was bound, loose enough to move around a bit but secure enough that I could move no more than a few feet, and my clothes were still on. Other than the inevitable rash that would undoubtedly appear on my raw and exposed side no harm had come to me-I was still in one peace.

One thing was for sure though-there was something or someone in Forks Crystal Cavern that did not welcome interlopers.

I couldn't have felt anymore like an amateur in my position than at this moment. Like an idiot, I trekked the cave-alone!-without map nor compass to guide me. Let alone the fact that none of my team knew of my whereabouts. Rookie move, Swan, rookie move.

There was a grating noise, high pitched and deafening in the silence, coming from approximately 10 feet away from the space above my head. I gasped as a dim light hit my face and my headache multiplied tenfold. I turned my head away instinctively and watched the wall that my chains were nailed to. There was a broad shadow there, distinctly male, with tousled hair and his shoulder width was exaggerated due to the distance. My pulse began to race, rivaling the throb in my head as it thundered in my ears. I broke out in a cold sweat and my skin crawled uncomfortably, like ants began crawling up my veins. I forced my lungs to take in air but they would not permit it; it was a struggle to get the flow of oxygen pumping through my blood stream-I was having another attack despite my disposition. The trembling began in my hands, my heart stuttered, and for a fraction of a second I saw black spots in my vision. I needed my Ativan. Now.

I turned toward the man, wild eyed and angry. Angry at him for taking me and chaining me up. Angry at him for causing my attack. Angry at myself for forgetting to take my Ativan; and angry at my firm for not drawing up a map for this cave.

"My bag!" It came out a breathy snarl and was extremely foreign to my ears. "Give me my pills!"

He took a step back, his face silhouetted from the light behind him. My headache was temporarily forgotten as my body went into a paroxysm of convulses, more spots appearing more frequently.

"Give me my pills!"

He stood there for another long moment, watching me, then disappeared back through the light.

"GIVE ME MY PILLS! MY ATIVAN! GET MY ATIVAN!" I screamed as loud as I could, calling him back to help me, calling out to anyone who could hear me. No one came.

I was weary and could only take but so much. It was an entire minute after he left that I could no longer scream, no longer make a noise. I let my body go limp on the ground and fought at each tremor that rocked through me internally. It was a battle I would not win. The only sounds that managed to float to my ears were my speeding heartbeat and the occasional grunt as violent spasm threw my skull into the ground. It was only two minutes at best and yet it felt like a lifetime. No doubt my anxiety attack would knock me out for a long, long spell and I welcomed it with eagerness; I closed my eyes blocking out the spots, and waited for the give out. This was my personal Hell and sleep was my salvation.

I didn't feel the arms lift me but I knew I had been elevated because I was shaking from the waist up. I peeked from behind my lashes, praying for a an EMT, and was face to face with an angel, a very livid angel. Strong jaw, sharp green eyes and copper tousled hair. I could not make out much more of him, could not see details. One arm was behind my back, holding me up and against him, and the other was a few inches from my face, pinching something between his thumb and forefinger. He pushed the small object between my lips but my teeth were clenched in an effort not to bite my tongue accidentally. With his little finger he coaxed my chin up and gave another shove at my lips, his eyes going hard. I wanted the object to be my Ativan, I craved for it to be so, but I could not unclench my jaw or I would chop my tongue off with the convulsions. He tried it again but this time I turned my head slightly away, wanting him to leave me be, to let exhaustion just take me. He was having none of that. He cupped my chin in an iron grip and forced my head to turn his direction. He locked his gaze onto mine and growled.

The angel growled.

"Open your mouth. Now!"

I gasped and he took the opportunity to shove the abused object that was a pill into my mouth. The second it touched my tongue his hand left my face and not any time sooner I was guzzling down lukewarm water. I swallowed the pill, praying it was my medication and not rat poison in pill form. As I drank I realized just how thirsty I was; I sucked down the liquid greedily, water that escaped my mouth dribbling down my chin and wetting the collar of my sweater. When it was all gone I whimpered. I wanted more. My belly was full and sloshy as he removed the arm supporting me and lay me down flat onto the ground. I was no longer shaking and my eyes began to droop shut. The angel stood above me, a halo of light gleaming around him. Just as I slipped into unconsciousness I managed a quiet and garbled, "Thank you."

I felt trapped. I was surrounded by darkness, smothered in it, the weight of it pressing down on me. _It hurt, _I thought idly, _I have to get out of it. _I was numb and as I began to resurface I wheeled each of my nerve endings to awaken with me, to come alive again.

I wanted this all to be a bad dream, a terrible nightmare dredged up from my overactive imagination as a result of binging on Thai food, Klonopin and apple juice the night before. When I opened my eyes I would be in my Jeep, legs draped across the dash with a _Times _magazine across my forehead, hip deep in paperwork. Angela would call my Blackberry to signal my obnoxious ringtone to wake me up and I would jump ten feet in the air, causing Mike Newton to drop his lemon squares in the dirt.

I knew it was all a lie and as I could once again feel each essential body part I was moving.

He caught me as I flung myself off of the makeshift cot I had been laying on, his arms like bands of iron around my body. I kicked and screamed and when he covered my mouth with his hand I bit him as hard as I could, digging my teeth into his skin, possibly drawing blood. It didn't faze him.

"If you do not calm down I _will _break your neck," he whispered as he held me tight against him. "You are more trouble than you are worth."

And I knew he wasn't lying. I went limp, pursing my mouth to hold back the sob in my chest as he hauled me up against a wall, rough rock grazing my back, and he put his arms on either side of my head, supporting his weight on the wall. His face was less than a few inches from mine and I was terribly uncomfortable albeit semi-turned on with the manhandling.

"Who are you?" he asked quietly, calmly. "Why are you here?"

He has an accent, I thought, British; faint but there.

"Won't you tell me, _ma petit_?" His voice was like velvet with a honey center, silky and smooth and his breath was faintly sweet fanning across my face.

I averted my eyes away from him, looking but not seeing into the darkness next to the spot I imagined was his ear. His hand tilted my head up to meet his gaze but I wouldn't look at him still.

"Please?"

He sighed and tilted his head so that the tip of his nose was touching my jaw. The hand at my chin glided down over the side of my neck to my collarbone and up again until his thumb was against my throat. I exhaled a shaky breath as he applied the slightest pressure to the spot beneath his finger and my eyelids drooped. I was still tired, I reasoned. I felt his eyes on me, watching me and bracing my reaction. His hips lifted and pushed my own into the hard wall and I balled my fists at my side, shaking with the effort not to move. His lips just barely touched me but I felt them, soft and full and at the junction between my neck and shoulder. I was tense, every muscle coiled within me against his movements. But it was the blackest of blasphemies.

My intimate life had been dormant for a gut-wrenching, heart-stopping 7 months, you see. No love making, no one night stands, no friend fucks, not even a little bit of self-loving. My time and energy had been directed fully and totally to the Forks Cavern Excavation and, as I looked back on my neglect to my poor body, I saw just how bad I got the short end of the stick. Like, 4 feet shorter-than-yours short. I was like a spring wound too tightly and with this gorgeous maybe-neanderthal grinding against me my sexual frustration was devastating.

I was brought back by the steady throb between my legs that startled me slightly. It was something I hadn't felt in a very long time. His knee was now at the apex of my jeans and I resisted like hell the urge to rub myself on his cloth covered leg. His lips made a trail around my jaw, up my cheek, past my temple and hovering just above my ear. He whispered that I should just tell him what he wanted to know, that no harm would come of me if I just answered. I would have told him who I was, what I was doing here, my middle name, birthday, social security and everything in between but with the drunken pleasure I was receiving it was hard to form a coherent thought let alone a sentence.

"What is your name, _ma petit_?" He asked, cradling my head as his knee worked me through my jeans.

"Isab-bella Swan." That would be the first time I had ever given my full first name, and, hey, it wasn't my middle name but I came close. . . Figuratively speaking.

"Mmm. Isabella. A beautiful name for a beautiful creature." His hands left my face and curved around my sides, making a slow descent to my bottom, pulling my hips against his own. I was warm now, too warm. My sweater, bunched around my midriff, was itchy and needed to go and the only good it was doing was cooling my chest with the wet spot there. I felt a blush creep up from my breasts and slowly make it's way to my face. My resistance was blowing with the wind now.

"I must admit I am fairly attracted to you. I don't remember having such an interesting draw to such a simple charm."

Before I realized what he intended he'd wrapped his arms around me, pushing me flush against the wall and proceeded to kiss me. He was. . . very good. His hands were touching me, his mouth the merest whisper against my own, and without thinking I closed my eyes, feeling his kiss brush against my cheekbones, my eyelids, then down to my mouth again, clinging slightly, then moving down the side of my neck.

My hands were still hanging at my sides; I didn't know what to do with them. I ought to have pushed him away, but I didn't really want to. The soft, feather-light kisses made me want more, and since this was the first time in more than half a year I should have enjoyed it. He was far more than beautiful. And willing!

So when he moved his hands from my waist to cup my face and pressed his mouth against mine, harder this time, I opened for him, telling myself that one little taste wouldn't be the death of me.

But just as I was about to let myself sink into the the pleasure of it, nasty little siren warnings went off in my head, stopping me. He was, oh, so adept. He knew how to kiss, how to use his lips, his tongue, his hands, and if I were just a little bit more stupid I would've been awash with desire.

But I got my degree, twice, so I was slightly more aware than mere "little bit more" would have been.

Something was not right. It was a performance that even I noticed in my stupor. He made all the right moves, almost calculated, said all the right things, but a part of him, I was sure, was standing back, coolly gauging my response. Not only that but less than five minutes ago he was interrogating me and threatening to snap my head off. He was playing with me.

My hands, now poised to clutch at his shoulders, shoved him away instead. It was a little more forceful than intended but he made no effort to resist, stepping back with an amused expression though he did not smile.

I could get a good look at him now as opposed from when I was either shaking or eating his face. He _was _the "angel" that brought me my medication but with each passing second I could see he was the absolute opposite of what I thought. He had dangerously sharp features: his nose, cheekbones, jaw, and he was absurdly beautiful. His hair, copper and disheveled, hung over his forehead and almost into his eyes. He was lean, but muscular, tall, maybe 6 feet, and his eyes were deep green, a dark almost black color than sent chills up and down my spine. His face was blank, revealing no emotion at all as he appraised me as well.

"Who are you and what kind of sick game are you playing at?"

Another flash of amusement crossed his eyes and then died within the same second. "I asked you first."

"What, are we in kindergarten now? Who are you?"

"I am not at liberty to reveal my name yet, _cherie. _And I asked you first."

"I told you already," I said frustrated.

"Your name means nothing to me. Title?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid, woman."

"Excuse me?"

"Why are you here?"

"Who the hell are you to demand anything from me?"

I pushed off of the wall and ducked right, half running, half walking with my hands outstretched in front of me, searching for a wall of some sort. I felt his arm encase me once again and I didn't struggle. He threw me against a wall and with his face so close I could see he was as angry as I was annoyed.

"Don't ever walk away from me again, one. Two, where did you think you were going?"

"I'm going home," I spat angrily. His sudden mood swing did not go by unnoticed by me. "If you would be so kind and show me the way, thank you."

He laughed humorlessly and seemed to get even closer in my personal space, if that was possible. "You're not going anywhere. I have no intention of letting you out of my sight until you decide to talk. Maybe not even then."

With that he grabbed my arm and we were walking too fast in some direction behind where he had just stood. I was stumbling behind him, my foot catching numerous times on large rock that lay in our path. I moved blindly, clumsily, yet he seemed to know exactly where we were going. We stopped and he yanked my arm forward before gripping my neck, pushing me down, and shoving at my shoulder. My side collided with a wall filled with rocky pockets and I cried out as it tore the skin of my arm. I slid down, wrapping my arms around my knees and biting my wrist, holding in the sob that threatened to escape.

"Until you tell me what your objective is you will reside in this crawl space." I only saw his green eyes in the dark framed by his pale skin, they were illuminated by the spark of anger that lay behind them. His face was a blank slate but it was the eyes that contradicted him.

"Please," I whispered in a small voice. "Please just let me leave."

He glared at me for another minute then a grating noise scraped across the rocks at my feet and somehow it seemed to get even darker. My breath came quick and I was trembling.

I lay my head between my knees and bit back the convulsions in my chest, waiting for my salvation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: First off, I love you guys and I love that you're enjoying the story. Your reviews rock my world. So as promised, here is your compensation chapter, nice and early. Enjoy.

* * *

**

Chapter 3: Lapse

Somewhere between my mild breakdowns and episodes of hysteria he would slip some food through a small crack of the opening of my hole. A few slices of bread and cheese, a pint of juice, and some soup to sop the bread with. I didn't wonder where he was getting this stuff, I didn't care. Nourishment was nourishment. One serving lasted me for hours, for I ate without tasting, slowly, chewing for minutes on end and staring at nothing until my stomach protested for more. I was not thinking of my situation, where I was, or why I was here; I was not thinking at all. Just staring. The idea that maybe I would never leave this cave had hit me full force which triggered my hysterics. I cried out, kicked at the entrance which gave me bruises, and I screamed at him, harsh, angry words that would have cut me down half my size if I were on the other side of this small, cramped space. But I wasn't, so I had no remorse.

When I finished my bawling for the moment I would lie down and I was right on schedule. Numb, I lifted my arms and they hit the ceiling at only half of their full length. When I kicked at the opening my knees were bent unnaturally and it was painful. When I lied down to sleep I had to wrap myself in a small ball or I would not fit. It was no Hampton but it was more comfortable than the chains. Surprisingly, it was not cold nor hot here which was good for my anxiety. I wondered if it was morning or night; this entire ordeal seemed to have lasted for weeks. But I blew myself off. Time had no meaning in this black hole I lay in, time would not get me back to Forks.

I could not consider my rest periods sleep, but just that, rest. I was unconscious and yet still distantly aware of everything whilst my body rested. I counted my breaths for fun, recalled amusing conversations with the important people of my life to avoid loneliness, tapped my foot against the entrance to my cubby hole for exercise, and ate when I felt like it. I was getting the daily essentials.

I missed my dad, Charlie. I would drop him a call every afternoon at four, just to make sure he was doing alright, in case he wanted to go out for dinner, wanted to see a movie, wanted me to help him woo Sue Clearwater. He was alone for too long and I thought it would be. . . cute. . . for him and Sue to be an item. I knew Sue was already on board with me but Charlie wanted to take things slow, like one date every two weeks. A small smile creased my lips thinking about him and his "famous bachelor" claims.

I missed everyone else at La Push, too. Leah and Seth were like the siblings Renee would never give me and I adored them. Sue was already like a mother to me so her and Charlie getting together would just bind us closer. . .

And Jake. . . I didn't want to think about Jake.

I wondered if Charlie would be expecting a call by now but then again I had no idea what time it was. I _knew_, not a hunch but pure knowledge, knew that I had been in this cubby hole for more than 24 hours. What time was it when I trekked the cave? Had Charlie noticed my missed call? Would he go to Angela, Mike, Alice, Rosalie or even Esme and ask where I've been? What would they think? Chances were they would call up a search team, and then what? I didn't want any of them getting captured by the confused green-eyed maybe-caveman that held me prisoner. I wouldn't let that happen. I had to call Charlie, text him, leave him a voice mail, email or something. I didn't want this for him, for them.

I was tiring myself out without my over thinking, exactly what I wanted. I closed my eyes and just as I was on the edge of my salvation the unmistakable sound of grating rock roused me. I looked through the whole, temporarily blinded by the gas lamp sitting there, the man's face peering through at me.

"Get up."

I hesitated, not wanting to leave the safety of my crawl space just to be seduced by this monster again.

He huffed, annoyed and pulled at my legs as if I were nothing more than a rag doll. Sharp pebbles dug into my skin but I was beyond caring at this point. When I was out, he pulled me up by my arms and held me against the wall, my back to his front. I tensed but he didn't do anything promiscuous but tie a sash around my eyes. He tied a knot in the back of my head, placed a chaste kiss on my neck and we were walking, him guiding me by the arm. I was stiff and hunched over from being forced into the small space. The path reminded me of when I'd gotten lost, the elevating and declining of the ground as we went. I suspected that he was purposely leading us in circles because the angling of certain corners was becoming repetitive.

"Where are we going?" I asked. My voice was hoarse and dry from my screams. I cleared my throat. My legs weren't working properly and I was stumbling behind him.

"To get you cleaned up." His voice was without emotion but I thought I could _feel _him smile as I blushed. I stunk. To high-freaking-heaven, actually. I didn't notice it before what with the stale air but as we moved and my lungs filled with the fresh, I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose with the rank odor.

"There's water down here?"

"Yes."

"Sewer water?"

"No."

"Can I wash myself?"

He grunted.

It was clear that he wasn't interested in conversation, or he just didn't want to tell me anything. I was particularly anxious with having to undress in front of him; I wasn't ready to give up the goods until he told me something.

"What if I don't want to be clean?"

"I'll strip you by force and bathe you anyway. Whether you can stomach your stench or not, I can't."

"Would it be easier if I just cooperated?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't make much difference to me."

"Are you a caveman?" I blurted.

I didn't really think of asking the question, I just assumed, but I most certainly did not anticipate his reaction. He laughed. And it was a genuine, real, committed laugh, not a ruse; lilting and soft and infectious-I wanted to laugh too. It was like stripping fences of their barbwire-he was human. It was short but it was enough for me to feel like I wasn't just being held against my will by a robot.

"What a God awful imagination you have. Correct me if I'm wrong but most cavemen don't have as good pronunciation as I pertain."

"But you live in this cave. You know it better than me and my firm do and we've been analyzing this place for years."

That seemed to sober him. He was silent for a long moment, the only sounds were our breathing, our footsteps, and the skidding of rocks as I tripped.

"Yeah. You still haven't told me what I want to know."

"What? The whole 'who am I' thing? I told you already. My name is Bella. Bella Swan."

"I specifically remember you telling me Isabella, not Bella."

My cheeks heated at the remembrance of his fingers on my skin, how he coaxed words out of me that left my mouth unfiltered through my head. "That was a lapse of. . . control? Anyway, Bella is short for my whole name. I didn't mean to tell you the whole thing, and while we're on this subject, who the hell do you think you are being so forward like that only to be playing with me?"

He grunted again, dismissing my rant.. "I don't care for your name. I want a title."

"What the hell do you mean by title?" I was frustrated now. He was dancing around what he really wanted to ask with silly "ye olde adjectives" instead of modern words. "Like, my job? Is that what you're asking? You want to know where I work?"

He didn't answer so I took that as confirmation. "I'm an archaeologist. Forks Crystal Cavern has been my dream exploration since I was a little girl and I was stoked to get the job. I was on a dig with my team when I got lost and I ended up going through the floor, thus my being manhandled by you. Now can you answer my question?"

"We're here," he said suddenly. We jerked to a stop and I heard a babbling. Like voices. It sounded like a room full of people, conversing casually, some deeper voices, some higher. But I knew there was no one here with us; I also had a form of social anxiety, couldn't be near too many people at one or I would panic.

"What is that?" I asked quietly, not wanting to disrupt the low conversation.

"A river."

My head snapped in his direction and my mouth flew open. "There's a river here?"

"Two actually," he said casually. He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me forward, guiding again. "This cave was actually part of a volcanic formation. It was filled to the brim with lava, carving channels and passages all throughout. Turns out there's an underground river below here, maybe 200 feet below sea level. When the lava cooled the river took over, but as the density varied so greatly, it didn't linger in the pockets, just coursed through, smoothing out jagged edges. This is a very old cave, maybe ancient, so the crystals at the mouth of the cave that you saw came from the river as the final tide of it gushed into the clearing. It's not as large of a body of water now as it was then. In this room, there are two separate rivers flowing in different directions that conjoin and split up again. One higher up, one lower.

"I will allow you to bathe yourself so it is imperative you know where you are. You have exactly 5 minutes and then I'm coming back to get you." He took my hands, place a few familiarly shaped objects in them and curled my fingers around them."If you even think about jumping in the river, I suggest you torch the idea-you will die." I felt a tug on the knot behind my head and felt him place an open mouthed kiss on my neck again. "5 minutes," he whispered. And he was gone.

I whirled around, hating how he moved so fast. He had left the gas lamp at my feet so I could see. I looked down at my hands and _almost _smiled. He gave me toiletries and an Ativan. I turned to the rivers and I couldn't even focus on their beauty, wondering about the caveman. I also couldn't help but call him that-I didn't know his name. I sat before the two bodies of water dipped my fingers into the smaller one. It flowed slow, and was about 6 feet in width. The other one, the larger one, was a giant rush. It was maybe three times the size of the smaller one and rushed by at a speed that could tear limbs. I disrobed quickly, wet the rag he had given me and soaped it up.

There was something so off with him, I thought scrubbing my skin clean. He finally told me _something_, not exactly important information but it was something. He's not a caveman which means he'd gotten here another way then just being raised by woodland creatures. His temperament was extremely wavering. One minute he was calm, the next he was trying to seduce me, then angry, then sociable, but I knew he was guarding himself during it all, not really showing himself to me. I didn't know if he was truly an angry person, whether he was really nice or even if he was sociable. He was an enigma and I wanted to know as much about him as possible.

I heard footsteps and knew my five minutes must have been up. I contemplated putting the dirty clothes on again but didn't. Instead I wrapped the soft terry cloth towel around myself and quickly scoured my teeth with the toothbrush and paste. That was another thing. Where was he getting these items? They damn sure didn't grow in caves which meant he was either going out to get them or having somebody retrieve them for him.

My hair was dirty and covered in grit and I needed much more than 5 minutes to get it clean. Knowing it was time I couldn't have, I snapped my head forward, dipping it in the water, and scrubbed my head. Combing through the snarls quickly and pulling at rocks. When I was somewhat satisfied I pulled back wrung my hair out quickly before letting it fall down my back. I turned and started at the man's standing so close to me. I hadn't heard his steps get so close.

"Better. Put these on." I took the clothes from his hand, sweat clothing, and asked him to turn around. He did with a shake of his head. "You Americans are so squeamish."

I pulled the clothes on, marveling at how well they fit and slipped into my shoes, ready to go back to my tiny space.

"I'm ready."

He turned, appraising me then in a move so fast I didn't even register it, he shoved my body up against a wall and glared down at me. I pressed myself as close to the wall as possible, begging with my eyes for him not to touch me. The plea went to shits as he crashed his lips down on mine, roughly this time, and wrapped his fingers in my hair. He tugged my head back and I cried out. His tongue delved into my mouth, tasting and exploring, prodding my own. I tried to fight it, tried with everything in me to push away, at the very least not participate. Bit my will crumbled. I was dangerously attracted to him, unhealthily so, and I wanted him despite my situation. I touched my tongue to his and he groaned, crushing his skull to mine, tipping my head to one side to deepen the kiss. He kissed the corner of my mouth, then my chin and his hands slid down my arms to gather my wrists in one, the other clawing at my waist. He lifted my arms above my head glared down at me, his pupils dilated. I panted, catching my breath and locked my gaze with his, not afraid but terribly turned on.

His mouth went to my jaw and he bit down slightly. My back arched against him and I floundered for a bit. I wanted a name. Now.

His teeth nipped at my skin again and I twisted my head away, taking a deep breath and clearing my jumbled head somewhat. "Wait. Wait, please?"

He didn't stop but he muttered a "What?" against my neck.

It was a very fat chance he would answer me. Either he would, or he wouldn't and more likely than not have another mood swing which would end our little tryst, which was for the best, I reasoned. "What's your name? Please?"

He was silent for a few heartbeats, not moving, not saying anything, and I knew he was deliberating whether he should tell me or not.

"Edward."

I nodded, and let my eyes close, confirming what I already knew to be the truth, accepting it. I just have to hear him say it for myself. I needed the painful words to come from the sadist himself.

"Why did you tell me?"

He licked my collarbone and tightened is grip on my wrists, pulling me closer with his other hand.

"Because chances are, I won't ever let you leave this cave."

I breathed a shuddered breath and surrendered myself to feeling, not thinking.

I was such a masochist.

* * *

**Bum Bum Buuuuuuuuhhhhhmmmm!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Interrogations and Confessions

The first thing I noticed was that my back was not aching, my limbs were not protesting from the lack of space and I could stretch. The second was that I was not wearing pants and I damn sure wasn't wearing anything under those sweats. Third, it felt like a band of midgets were rehearsing their cymbal recital in my head.

I stretched, very much like a cat waking from a nap, and rolled my head side to side, looking for him. Looking for Edward. I wanted to talk to him about something but it didn't look like he was here at the moment.

There were too many questions for him, too many questions that he probably would not answer. The main one at the moment being did we sleep together. I had no recollection of it but that didn't mean it didn't happen. I sat up in a ball, wrapping my arms around my knees and shook my hair out, pebbles showering me like a rainy day. I yawned and quickly scanned the area for where the missing pants might have disappeared to. They were in a far corner, unlit by the gas lamp at my side, and I scooted over to it, snapping the dirt off before pulling them up my legs.

And then I paused.

There, covered in grit and rock, sat the most perfect brachiopad specimen that I had ever seen, about an inch in length, three inches in width. Delicately, ever so delicately, I dusted the rock off of the hardened shell and held it gingerly in my palm, on the verge of tears. I could not decipher it's species; I would need Rose for that. I turned it over and over in my hand observing the common physical properties but marveling at how preserved it was. The brachiopad's toothed valves were hinged at it's rear and an almost reddish mantle encrusted it. Carefully, oh, so carefully, I lifted it's upper shell and felt a tear stream down my cheek. I could see all of it's internal organs, remarkably preserved as if it _wanted _man to discover it's hidden secrets of the past. It's lopophore was spread out in an almost majestic way, the darkest part being the crown. It was beautiful.

I didn't hear him as he approached me but I felt him there. I turned to him, still teary eyed, and gave him a weak smile. His face was hard but I could see some concern in his eyes. My smile grew wider-he wasn't a robot!

"What's wrong?" He dropped what was in his hands near the lamp and sat in front of me, watching me critically. "Did you hurt yourself?"

I shook my head and held the extinct marine animal up for him to see. He looked at it, his eyebrows knitting together, then looked to me again. "You're crying because of this rock?"

"It's not a rock! It is an extinct breed of water mammal that just happened to be lying here under my pants. By the way, did we have sex?" I could have been asking him asking him the time with the casualty of my voice.

He shook his head and fished my Ativan bottle out of his pocket. "No. You passed out after turning purple so I had to bring you here to keep an eye on you."

"Where is here?" I sat the tiny shell in my lap and accepted a pill from the bottle along with a bottle of water he had for me.

"Don't worry about it. Your pants were gone because you were sweating. I didn't touch you."

I nodded, taking my medication and splashing water on my temples, cooling the head throb a bit.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why do you take that?"

"I have a few forms of anxiety. I panic when I don't have my meds every few hours. Or I faint."

He looked uninterested but he wouldn't have asked if he wasn't curious.

"Are you ready to start explaining, woman? Otherwise I can just hole you up in the crawl space again."

"It's Bella, not woman. What do you want to know?"

"Title."

"My god. I honestly don't know what is you really want. I tried! I answered you the best way I could and you either don't seem to be hearing me correctly or you're being extremely daft."

He was annoyed now, I could see it all over his face; I shouldn't have insulted him. He shook his head, staring down at the water in his hands and I winced as he twisted the plastic like it was made of clay. "Your testing my patience, woman."

"What?" I exploded, getting to my knees and glaring down at him, dropping the artifact and not even caring. I was beyond annoyed myself and either he was going to tell me something or I would find the damn river and take my chances. "What are you talking about? What title? You're-you're not making any sense and then you get angry and store me in a fucking hole the size of a ball because I can't give you the answer you're looking for!You take me against my will and give me this ridiculously blank question! Maybe if you elaborated just a little fucking bit I could tell you what you want! So tell me! What do you want?"

I don't how he did it but he knocked my legs out from under me and I was on my back, him hovering over me with a murderous expression, his mouth pursed in a hard line, his eyes wide. I could just barely see the green in them but the color was there.

"You will _never-_ever!-speak to me like that again! Or so help me I will remove your fucking head from your shoulders"

"Do it then," I spat.

His hand enclosed around my throat with a painfully tight grip, and for just a second I thought I was going to die.

But then I felt his tongue in my mouth, slick and soft and warm and I was immediately hot. Death came second compared to my caveman.

I froze and he did as well.

My caveman? That's exactly what I was thinking. _M_y caveman. I wasn't, couldn't, develop any type of feeling towards this wildly evasive and misunderstood man because I didn't know the slightest thing about him. It was probably just the blunt seduction talking, er, thinking. That _had _to be the forthcoming of that indecent possessive thought. He was still looking down on me, his lips hovering just a hairsbreadth above mine. They were very nice lips, _very _nice. The lower one was plump and incredibly inviting. And I wanted to kiss him again. I leaned up and took his lower lip between my teeth, swiping my tongue across it and sucking it gently. He groaned and pushed me into the ground, attaching his mouth to mine. I clutched at his shoulders and his hand eased up on my throat. My mouth molded to his easily, effortlessly, and I let myself sink into the pleasure of it. Those warning bells sounded in my ears again and this time I obeyed. I peeked through my lashes to see him staring straight at me, not gauging my reaction, but watching me with hunger in his eyes. Another throb hit me but it wasn't directed at my head. I pulled him closer, needing to feel him against me and sighed. More bells. More Edward. Tough decisions.

The bells were transmitting some seriously good evidence though as to why we needed to separate so I knew I had to pull back. I shoved at his shoulders but he didn't move, didn't notice. I did it again but he grunted. I turned my head away, his mouth now suckling my jaw and I took a breath.

"Edward."

"Mmmm?"

"Get off of me."

"You know you don't want me to get off of you."

Well that was a pretty cocky ass statement. _Yet so true. _"I _need _you to get the hell off of me. There, does that rephrasing help you?"

He smirked but pulled back nonetheless. I readjusted my clothing and swept my hair back before scooting a little farther away from him. If we were to close we would end up touching again.

"We need to have a little talk," I said, watching the ground. There were some things that needed discussion and I wanted some light shone upon them. I remember when I lay in my crawl space - I'd thought of some questions for him, things to say, things to tell, and I decided that now was as good a time as any to get them off of my chest.

I wrung my hands in front of me as I collected my thoughts, twisting my fingers around one another nervously and he sat silently, watching me. "Edward. First of all, I'm glad you at least told me your name," I said quietly. "I know you didn't have to and you may not have wanted to, but you did. Thank you. I know that I may be. . . a burden to you in some ways, but then again you won't let me leave so we're kind of even.

"You seem serious about not letting me go back. Are you?" I continued when he didn't answer. "Although I don't agree with your decision I do understand and respect it. You say you're not a caveman but this cave must be like a second home to you, you know, if you have a first, and I am an intruder. That being said, all I am to you is a captive, someone you found and omitted freedom to. You don't have to feed me, allow me to bathe or talk to me. You can, if you very well wanted to, put me back in that hole and leave me to die and I would be none the wiser. But you didn't, and I am eternally grateful even though I don't seem like it. You could have killed me on the spot if you wanted. It may be for personal reasons," I said, remembering the stupid title question, "but I'm still alive which means I'm still thankful.

"I know that I have absolutely no right to ask this of you but if you really are decided on not letting me go then I have to ask you to open up to me a little." I kept my eyes down, watching my fingers curl and uncurl, not wanting to see the hardness of his face, or the apparent "no" in his eyes. "You're extremely reserved and you don't say what you really mean like you're worried I might catch onto something I'm not supposed to. When you asked me about my title for instance. You think I'm lying about something and I think you're insane. We're just always going to bump heads, you see, and when that happens we're always two seconds from having sex." Not that I'm objected to it. "It's just - I get it, you know? You live here alone, you take care of me all day and that solitude suggests that you don't _want _to be close to anyone." I finally looked at him and regretted it because I was about to cry. I crawled to where he sat, still looking at me expressionlessly, and held his face in my hands, something I'd never done before. I marveled at the feel of his skin under my fingertips, the silky smoothness of it and knew the waterworks were about to begin. "I don't want to live down here with no one to talk to," I whispered. "I don't want to be an invisible wall that you walk around everyday. We can talk for a few minutes or we can talk for hours. In the end, I can't say that I'll ever be bored because I'll always have to second guess myself with you. And I have nothing else to do regardless but sleep and pop pills. I'm basically relinquishing the life I once knew to you, Edward."

I closed my eyes and let the memories of my friends and family showcase themselves behind my lids, wanting to see them for the last time because holding on to them only seemed to hurt me more. I remembered my first fishing trip with Charlie, how I'd caught a giant red salmon and he caught a newspaper. I remembered my harebrained mother and how we were always able to bond and talk to each other like girlfriends and not mother and daughter. I remembered Alice and Rosalie, the two best friends that I could have ever asked for and how we loved each other so easily. And everyone else, Esme, my colleagues, the guys down at La Push, Jake. . . just flew by in my mind for the final time. I refused to sob. Yes, there would be tears but there would be no break downs. I just couldn't.

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, meeting his stare evenly. "Please, Edward, just a little, open up to me? Please?"

He was silent for a long time, deliberating.

"Fine," he answered coolly, and my stomach did little flip flops knowing that I'd broken through a level of his shell.

"Thank you," I whispered, and I let my lips brush against his lightly, just a little something. Hesitantly, he put his arms around me, a comforting gesture that I knew he wasn't used to because he was stiff, and I sat close to him, breathing him in and getting accustomed to him. We sat like this for an hour at least, not moving, not speaking.

"Edward?"

"What?"

"I have to potty."

He tied the sash around my eyes again and brought me to the river room to relieve myself and wash up. Something about that particular place made me feel different, in a good way. The water cast a blue light at the walls that shimmered and danced, putting me at ease better than my Ativan could. Edward said this was just another room like the others we'd been in but bigger and the river flowed directly through here. When I asked how it didn't flood he showed me through the smaller stream how the rush of water carved into the rock and made a channel so it wouldn't spill over and fill the cave. As he led me back I continued to ask him more questions about the cave formation. A few times his answers would be limited but I didn't push him, and for the most part he told me what I wanted to know.

He removed the blindfold when we'd stopped and revealed to me yet another room that I hadn't seen before. But this one shocked me into silence. I decided to name this one the master den because it felt like I was in sultan's harem. There was a stone bench, which was actually a part of the opposite wall, and there was a rather large fireplace which evoked a boatload of questions all it's own. Furs covered the area in front of the fireplace but it was the array of Persian, Turkish, and Oriental rugs of rich jewel tone colors and different variety of sizes that pleased the eye. They were plush and spread around the room, overlapping here and there, and simply rolled up in places where the rock wall was not squared off properly, the intent being insulation, not decor. But the result was that of opulent decadence, which was topped only by the bed.

It was in the middle of the room and aside from an armoire shoved over in the far corner, a wooden stool beside the fireplace, and a shelf for books nailed to the wall, it was the only piece of furniture in the room.

Four thick posts rose towering overhead, draped with layers of sheer silks that hung to the floor on three of the four sides. Through the filmy layers was a massive carved headboard that filled the remaining side. Pillows of all shapes and sizes, fashioned in a variety of colors and fabrics, were heaped on the bed.

"How the _hell _did you get that in here?" I asked, my eyes fixed on the monstrous bed.

"Ingenuity, love. I dismantled it and put it back together again.

He strolled past me and removed the bag on his back; I hadn't noticed it earlier. In fact I hadn't noticed him at all, and now that I got a good look at him, him and this whole room made me feel like he belonged on a set for the Playgirl model's magazine. He had a worn leather jacket over a black t-shirt and I'll be damned if this man couldn't work a pair of Levi's. He took off the jacket, flung it onto the bed and dropped his bag to the floor. His chest was deep but not massive, his stomach muscles were visible through the shirt and accentuated by his lean hips and long legs. He turned away from me to the fireplace, bending over to get the wood inside aflame and his ass gave me goosebumps. He was Godly.

"I think taking a picture may last longer and relieve me of back pain," he said mockingly.

I started and went to the dresser made of maple wood, my head down to hide the heat in my face. When he had a fire going, he went through the dresser and pulled out a shirt and flannel pants.

"Put these on. I'll be back." And he left me alone.

I got redressed in the too big clothes and looked around the room again. It definitely confirmed that I was right in my assumption that he stayed here often. I wandered around a bit, perused through his small collection of books, mostly classics and went to poke the fire. When I turned I did a double take because I didn't realize the bag he'd carried in was mine. I had nothing of value in it so I knew he didn't take anything. Flashlight, batteries, keys, my phone. I pulled my Blackberry out, a little reluctant, and tried to turn it on. Nothing. I took the back cover off and felt a smile creep on my face despite myself. Edward came back in and settled himself on the bed, hands behind his head and one leg over the other, the perfect picture of ease.

I waved my phone at him. "Stole my battery?"

"Yup."

I shook my head and let the phone drop into the bag. He told me to sit on the bed and we ate _deli sandwiches _before calling it a night.

I lay on one side and he the opposite, a large space between us to avoid anything sexual.

"You gotta give me some answers," I said, turning to him.

He propped his head on his hand and looked me right in the eye. "Yes, I would love to fuck you tonight, love."

My eyes widened impossibly and I blushed scarlet. "Who. . . When. . . I-I didn't ask for that-" I was completely flustered, and thank God he cut me off because I would have been floundering for words for hours.

He laughed, a low and throaty sound. "Relax. I have a sense of humor myself. Unless you want to," he cocked an eyebrow and I rolled my eyes. "I'll take that as a no for now. What do you want to know?"

I was thrilled that he let his guard down for me, even if for just a moment. I was glad that my talk with him helped him see things on my side of the fence and he allowed himself to just be for now. Yes, he was still guarded, controlling as well, but he was talking to me, something that I needed to make it down here. When we had a conversation I almost forgot that I was here against my will. When I said something that got him angry I was reminded of that fact, and thankfully I didn't slip too many times.

"How did you do all of this?"

"I didn't have to do much," he said. "I brought rugs, wood and a bed and nature did the rest."

"You don't stay down here forever but you don't go outside much either, do you?"

"I'm always here, with the rare occasion that I go into Seattle."

"Does that explain the designer clothing and prepared food?"

"It does."

"And you're British?"

"I am."

"I sort of thought you were a robot a while ago."

"For all you know, I am."

I nodded, trying to think of another question but coming up short.

"Don't bother. Go to sleep. You have things to do when you get up."

That shocked me. "Like what?"

"You made a valid point earlier-you _don't _do anything but sleep and drug yourself. So starting tomorrow, I'll have you doing chores to occupy your time."

"Why didn't you let me do that before?" I asked quietly.

"Because I knew you would try to run away and eventually get yourself killed."

"And you don't think I'll do that now?" Even quieter.

"No," he said this surely, like it was a basic fact.

"Why?"

"Because now you trust me. A stupid thing to do, but you do."

I buried myself under the warm blanket I was in and stared at his hand. He was right. I did trust him now, I trusted him not to kill me or not to let myself get killed, but that was the extent of it.

"I trust you," I said.

"I know."

"Good night, Edward."

"Good night, Isabella."

He turned away from me and I settled into the soft bed; it pulled me in like a downy sponge. I snatched a long velvet covered pillow and tucked it under my head as I stretched, giving a long, appreciative groan and I let the bed take over and pull me the rest of the way in.

As I drifted into sleep, the idle thought that I could get used to living here colored my thoughts.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So I gave you a longer one than usual (even though it's still short) because I may not update in a week-maybe two weeks time. I'm so sorry!

Until next time!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Trust

I was awakened feeling warm, smoldered.

My head was tucked beneath his chin and under my hand was the hard ridge of Edward's stomach. His arm was draped around my waist, holding me to him but it was just loose enough for me to wiggle my way out of. I lifted my head and could only see his neck and Adam's Apple. The tendons in them were straining against his skin and he was terribly stiff. I smoothed my thumb over his jaw and watched as he relaxed under my touch. Even in sleep the man was tensed. I lifted myself cautiously, attempting to roll back over to my side of the bed when the hand on my waist pulled me down hard. My gasp was muffled against his chest.

"Don't move." It sounded like a growl. I barely so much as breathed until I heard him sigh.

I turned my head to glance up at him and found that he was already asleep again. I looked at the immediate wall before me and watched the shadows dance from the still lit fireplace. I hadn't been asleep for long if the fire was still going. I settled in again, my head resting against Edward's shoulder, and I was out like a light.

"Now pay attention because this is important, probably more so than the rest of the chores."

After I had awaken for the second time, the bed empty save the indentation of Edward's body, I dressed in the clothes at the foot of the bed, a plaid button down that I assumed was his and leather stretch pants. When I had the time to, I told myself to remind Edward what exactly casual wear was. There was a styrofoam bowl of cut apples, bananas and mangoes on the stone bench, my breakfast. When I had finished eating he came through the narrow arch of the door, his hair wind blown from god knows what, and ushered me out into the cave with my clothes from the night before to teach me the first of my responsibilities. Without a blindfold.

I didn't ask him why; he would tell me when he was ready. Trust seemed a word above what he'd belayed to me, maybe by just a bit. No doubt it had a lot to do with me staying here for the long haul but I wanted it to be something more, something better.

The first of my chores was to take place in the river room where he again told me that the only way out would be through the river, which would kill me. I bathed first then when I made a move to hand the old clothes to him he stopped me. Laundry was something that I was good at doing, just not by hand. The way he explained it made scrubbing clothes seem like washing dishes, another thing I was good at. He said I was not required to clean denim and that I was in no way allowed to touch his leather jacket. That was fine with me. He gave me my first items to work with, a few shirts, the clothes I'd worn yesterday and basketball shorts and the cleaning detergent to wash them with, and I got to work quickly, forgetting his presence entirely as he watched, bored. I finished earlier than he expected me to and he showed me where I was to hang the clothing when they were clean, not before he inspected them, of course.

The next and final chore seemed like something he made up just to keep me busy but I didn't complain. I was to bring two buckets of water from the water room, carry them to the room in which the clothes dried, fill ten ice trays, and store them in the underground cellar he was currently showing me.

"Why do you need a cellar full of ice?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Why do you keep telling me not to worry about it when you know I'm going to ask again?"

"Well don't ask."

"Then don't avoid the question."

He sighed impatiently and pinched the bridge of his nose, something I noticed he did often when he was annoyed with me. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for his comeback. One thing good about the man, he could provide an interesting banter. When he wasn't putting his tongue in my mouth.

"Are you ready or should I put you back in the hole you belong in?"

"I don't _belong _in that hole, you put me there. I _belong _in civilization."

"Get over it. You're not going back and if you even attempt to I will either follow and watch you die or kill you myself."

"You won't even give me a reason not to let me go! I did nothing to you!"

"This conversation is over, Isabella."

"It's Bella! Bell-la! And the conversation is not ending just because you said it will! Who the hell are you to stop me from talking?"

The speed he possessed would have scared a normal person half to death but I was beyond caring anymore. It was not the first nor will it be the last time he would use it again. He was towering over me, bristling with anger directed solely in my direction. I could smell the sweetness of his breath from this close and it was distracting. I lifted my hands to his chest to push him away but they disobeyed entirely and slid down his torso lazily. I was prisoner to my body and lustful desires, which was prisoner to the confused Adonis before me.

He caught my wrists in his hands roughly and slowly brought them to his lips, kissing each of my palms without breaking eye contact.

"Are we going to play this game again, _cherie_? I can read you like an open book. I know what you want."

I caught my lip between my teeth, watching his mouth in a daze before pulling my hands away and tucking my hair behind my ears.

"Just show me the stupid cellar," I said quietly.

He smirked and went to the center of the room. I followed, embarrassed. I was wrapped around his finger and he knew it. All he had to do was invade my few feet of personal space and my resistance melted like butter on a hot stove, a very hot, bronze headed stove.

He lifted his arm above his head, trailing his fingers around a stalactite and lightly pressing into it, simultaneously taking a step back. There, where I distinctly remembered waking up yesterday, the small indentation in the floor shifted and receded 180 degrees back creating a hole the size of a pothole in the road. My eyes must have been halfway out of my head because Edward snickered, masking it behind his hand and facing the hole.

"What in the hell. . . ?"

"Like I said before, ingenuity. Let's go."

I moved till I was at his side and he lifted me by my hips, ready to drop me in.

"Wait, wait, wait!"

He sighed again. "What now?"

"You can't just let me fall," I explained shaking my head. "I'm really clumsy."

"I noticed."

"I might break something."

He put me down and gave me a sideways glance before jumping in himself. I peered through the darkness, trying to see him but spotting nothing, not even hearing him hit the ground.

"Swing your legs over the edge," he commanded through the dark.

I did as he said, getting to my knees and hanging my legs over the manhole, still trying to see him, at least a tint of bronze.

"Now fall in. Don't give me that look. I'll catch you."

I masked my doubt and counted to three in my head, holding my breath. I dropped in, a gust of air whipping past me before I landed bridle style in Edward's arms. I could see his face now. He was smirking at me, his eyebrow raised.

"Told you."

"Smart ass."

It was cold as hell and I immediately started shivering within the thin apparel of leather and cotton. Edward didn't seem to notice or care. He set me down and turned me so I was in front of him. Before us was a large open space, about the size of a courtyard. It was dark save the gas lamp perched on a thin ledge just to our right. In the middle of the area was a giant hole, maybe 3 feet deep, 10 feet long, filled with ice cubes. Ahead of us, across the ice, was another perch much like the one off our right but this one struck me as curious. It was jagged rock, sharp enough to cut skin like a box cutter against plastic, but it was. . . different.

"Do you have some type of ice fetish?" I asked, still eying the wall.

"I have my reasons. Don't-"

"Don't worry about it. Yes, yes, I know."

"Do not interrupt me, Isabella."

I rolled my eyes and turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Well? You want me to dump ice in here. What else?"

"The point of bringing you down here was strictly for warning."

Again, so fast I didn't register it, he grabbed my arm and threw me up against the wall, pressing my body against it like I was nothing but a paper mache doll. If I ever did get out of here I would be covered in bruises. He was close, much too close in such a small space, and was staring me dead in the eye.

"You do not come down here without telling me, without my permission, or I promise you will die down here." He tilted my chin upward so I could see the mouth of the hole slowly shut until it was completely closed. I shuddered, wheeling the spike of fear in my chest to die down. "When that closes no one, not even someone who was standing right where we just were, would be able to hear you. It's sound proof."

I removed my eyes from the ceiling 20 feet above our heads and blinked a few times, relaxing. "But we can get out right?"

He released my face and knelt to get the gas lamp, picking it up before letting it fall again. A low groan startled me coming from the wall I was against and large rocks pushed forward in a zigzagged pattern, leading straight up.

"Someone's had a lot of time on their hands," I breathed.

"Far too much time," he responded quietly. "Promise me."

"Promise you what?"

"That you will not come down here without me. The minute you against your word and jump down your as good as vulture meat. Frozen vulture meat. I will not help you, just assume you're dead. Do you understand me?"

"Does that mean you'll be leaving me to my own devices occasionally? Because I can't exactly come down here under your watchful eye."

"The cave is now yours to roam. But keep in mind, there are more spots like this cellar set up everywhere. You fall in, you die. Much like you almost did a few days ago?"

I swallowed, remembering the fall that led me here, led me to Edward. As much as I was thankful for not dying, I wasn't as thankful for ending up as a captive for the man who saved me.

"So let me get this straight. You're not setting me free, but you're giving me freedom."

"Something like that."

I wanted to try out my new word on him, see his reaction. "Trust me?"

"I trust your survival instincts. You're a smart girl. You won't go wandering around again, now will you?"

I grimaced and ducked from my place between him and the wall, effectively tripping so my leg scraped against the rock and slid into the ice, coloring it with blood. I gasped in pain and hissed at the cold sting that followed.

"Maybe you should not try that again. Who knows what will happen next time."

"Can you help me and stop being such a jackass!" I shouted.

He didn't get angry at my outburst, but lifted me in his arms so I was cradled against his chest, my wounded right leg folded over the left and dangling over his arm. He looked up at the ceiling, gauging the impossible distance up with a passenger before smirking down at me. His eyes seemed to lighten a shade when he smiled, I noticed. Like going from a deep moss to a light jade.

"Trust me?"

"I trust your perseverance and strength," I said.

"Then hold on."

I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and tried to make myself as light as possible as he took to the rocks two at a time, climbing with speed and strength that baffled me. He carried me with his right arm, the arm holding my legs up, and gripped the rock with his left, moving like a living fluid. When we reached the top he told me to press into the rock until I felt a groove. I did, and carefully slid the stone lid back until it was completely uncovered. He set me on the ground at the top and hoisted himself up, got to his feet, and pressed into the stalactite over his head so the manhole disappeared before my eyes. If I hadn't been in it I would have never guesses it even existed.

Satisfied, he lifted me again and took off in the direction I recognized as the way back to his room.

"Were you in the military?" I asked randomly.

"No."

"How'd you get so. . . you, then?"

He made a noise in the back of his throat and his mouth creased in a smile. "Spare time," he said simply.

"Hm. Do you have anymore hidden talents?"

"I'd rather ask you that question. Besides vomit mouth, anxiety, and the stubbornness of a bull, what else don't I know about you?"

"Oh? What happened to being able to read me like an open book?"

"That's only when you're ready to strip at my word. Right now, when you're lucid, I have a terrible time reading you."

"Um, well, I speak a shit load of different languages."

"Yeah? What do you know?"

"Some French, Romanian, Latin, Italian, Turkish, and god help me with my Greek."

I was straight shot to shits when he started a conversation in Italian.

"Dove imparate tutto questo?" he asked. **(Where did you learn all of that?)**

I gawked at him but quickly recovered before he could call me a liar. "Nella mia campo di lavoro di posti di lavoro provenienti da tutto. Qualora che ricevuto una telefonata da dire c'è una frecciatina in Turchia, sto intenzione." **(In my field of work jobs come from all over. If I get a call saying there's a dig in Turkey, I'm going.)**

He switched it up to Latin, thinking I couldn't keep up. "Et reduxit novae linguae dono?" **(And you brought back a new language as a souvenir?)**

I worked my _ass _off learning it and I'll be damned if I couldn't use it during small talk. "Hey, dona donis erit." **(Souvenirs are souvenirs.)**

He laughed and an involuntary smile broke out across my face. "I suppose you have a point."

We were back in his rooms now and he sat me at the foot of the bed, moving to the fireplace to warm the room up and provide some light. When the fire was going we ate our lunch or dinner or whatever meal it was in silence and kept to our thoughts. It wasn't awkward because we were both chewing in a daze. I learned a few things about my caveman today. One, he was talented in multilingualism. Two, he was strong as the day is wide. Three, he was smarter than any average caveman that I thought I knew when watching the Flinstones.

And four, he was hiding something.

Just as I put an apple slice to my tongue, the unmistakable sound of a whoop echoed through the cave, freezing Edward and I both into stillness. We looked at each other, barely breathing, and waited to hear it again. We did. Loud and clear, and I would know that yell from anywhere.

Jacob.

I dropped the apple from my hands and felt a spasm hit me hard before Edward's hand came around my throat, his expression that of which a murderer would pertain.

"What did you _do_?"

**Author's Note: **Until next time, lovelies!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Haywire Hurricane**

The second I heard Jacob's voice my body shut down, my nervous system gave up, took a vacation for the next long winter and I would feel the cold chills in a matter of seconds now. My anxiety had one short episode before retreating, leaving me all alone in my shell of skin. My mind raced until it finally hit a brick wall, effectively killing at least a quarter of thoughts that would send me spiraling, centralizing on only the few that mattered at this point and time. Hearing, blinking, breathing, Edward's hand wrapped around my throat. . .

I wondered what my chances of fighting him off of me were, then decided that I'd be splitting whatever time I had left in half for even trying. But what could I tell him to believe me? What could I say to make him believe that I had _no type of contact _to the world outside this cave? Nothing. I couldn't say a damn thing. He made it clear from day one that he didn't trust a thing I said. Maybe I was meant to die this way. I preferred it much more than the inevitable cardiac arrest that would set up from seeing Jacob again. I would rather die by Edward's hand than suffer that degrading fate.

I let my eyes flutter shut and dropped my hands from Edward's wrist. If he wanted to kill me, fine, he could.

But it was another moment before the hand on my throat disappeared and his weight next to me on the bed shifted. I opened my eyes to see him digging through the armoire.

"What are you doing?"

He pulled out a roll of duct tape and two pistols. "Shut up and get against the headboard. If you make a noise so help me, Isabella. . . " he trailed off, moving around the room like an angry storm. I did as he said, scooting backwards until my back was against the smooth, cool wood. "Lay down and spread your legs. Put your arms above your head and don't make a sound." He barked out commands moving like a blur and I followed each one, watching him. Eventually he came to my side at the bedpost and tied my wrists loosely to each one. After he fastened my legs he inspected the injured one, dabbed at some of the blood with a shirt and muttered something I couldn't catch under his breath. He was nervous. Of Jacob?

Again, that nagging feeling that he was hiding something popped in my head.

I said nothing. He pressed his back against the arch leading into the tunnel and closed his eyes in concentration. He stopped to his knees and began touching the rock closer to the ground with his fingertips. To me it seemed strange but after seeing some of the things that he'd been able to do with this cave I knew it it had a purpose. Satisfied with whatever he'd done he nodded, almost to himself, and came back to me. He stood at the foot of the bed and studied me for a long minute, his expression softening, his eyes lightening in color but growing in intensity, like he was trying to search the depths of my soul. And I was incapable of looking away. He took my face in his hands and leaned his forehead against mine. I breathed out a sigh as his lips found mine possessively, molding against mine with everything in him. And I kissed him back just as vehement. I couldn't find my voice to speak so I communicated through intimacy no matter how scarce.

_I did nothing_, I screamed silently. _I didn't do anything, Edward!_

He pulled away, turning his head in the direction of the door before placing a kiss on my forehead and then his touch disappeared. I squeezed my eyes shut, hating how much I needed him to come back. His touch was solace in the haywire that was my mind.

I heard the armoire move, a grating noise, and then silence. I wanted to call his name but he told me to stay silent, and any time I could savor without being found by Jacob was bliss. My muscles hurt and the pain in my leg was a steady throb as the blood continued to flow. Too much of it made me feel nauseous and I had to breathe through my mouth to avoid my churning stomach and inevitable anxiety attack, another something to thank _him_ for.

But my breath stopped all together when Jacob appeared in the door. He stopped just before the arch, a smile that one would use when seeing an old friend plastered on his face as he looked me over unabashedly, causing a shudder to run over my skin. His hair was as long as it was those few years back but his physique was different, bigger almost. He was attractive with his russet colored skin and friendly smile but he was the devil in a tailored tux, I was sure, and I was everything but religious.

He sucked his teeth and looked me over again, his smile growing. "Bella, hun, who would've thought I would see you here, tied up, of all places? Getting yourself into trouble again I see."

"Go away," I whispered.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," he said shaking his head. "This is the second and last time you interfere, Bella. You're a liability just like you were the first time and this is something I can't risk you knowing about." He uncovered the holster at his waist and pulled a gun up, holding it in my direction.

"Please?" I squeaked. "Please just leave me alone."

He watched me for a moment then put the gun down again. "I'll make you a deal. Tell me where he is and I'll let you go free again. After you sign another gag order, of course."

He. Jacob meant Edward which means they did know each other. But how? For Jacob to have come down from Alaska just to find me was unbelievable at best, which meant that he wanted Edward. A picture of James' body falling at my feet played in the back of my head and I felt the sting of tears threatening to spill over. I wouldn't let him take anyone else's life in my midst again. Especially not Edward's.

I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath. "I don't know who you're talking about," I said coolly.

"Cut the shit, Swan," he said cocking his gun. I didn't open my eyes, I would lose my calm that way and that was something I couldn't afford to do. "Where the fuck is he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"WHY ARE YOU HIDING HIM?" I flinched at his suddenly thunderous voice, trying to disappear in the mass of pillows beneath me. "There's no fucking way you've been down here this long without someone helping you and that pale fucker is the only reason your alive. Where is he?"

_"Why _are _you defending him?" _the small voice in the back of my head asked in what could have been disgust. _"He's holding you _captive. _This isn't some awesome sleepover in the catacombs, idiot. Your not his friend and you mean less than nothing to him." _And I realized that my inner voice was one, a bitch, and two, absolutely in the right mind set. She was right - I was right. Edward was a danger to me, to my life, just as much as Jacob was in this moment. Whatever veil of seduction I had placed over me was ripped off by the seams, torn to scraps and thrown to the floor, awaiting the moment for me to torch it. I saw the situation clearly for what the hell it actually was and the reality of it scared me. I shouldn't have had an ounce of faith in him and yet I couldn't bring myself to displace my trust. I _wanted _to trust him, and the main reason for this being that I was either going to live with Edward or die by his hand.

I was quite thoroughly fucked.

_"But Jacob is offering you freedom!" _True but I can't trust Jacob after what he put me through. I didn't really want to trust _anyone._ So, clearly, I was going to continue bumping heads with myself on this. The deciding question is, where did my best chances lie? With the man I loathed like no other or the caveman that drove my senses into the ground? Who would help me live longer? Who was I safer with?

I inhaled slow and steady and breathed out a breath that carried my decisions with the wind. I just had to pray it was the right one.

"What are you going to do to him?" I asked quietly.

"I have unsettled business with that leech. I might kill him, I might torture him to death, or I might get someone else to kill him for me. Where is he, Bells?"

I flinched. He didn't have he right to call me by that name. I opened my mouth to speak but before the air left my lungs a keening noise sounded behind Jacob followed by a scratching in the walls behind me. I stared at the one closest to me, my eyes wide. I waited for the noise to come again and when it did I turned back to see Jacob moving closer.

"Well, looks like I won't be needing your cooperation anyway. He showed his position all by himself. I guess this is goodbye."

With that, he took the remaining few steps until he was within the room and I closed my eyes in resignation.

But the shot never came. I peeked through my lashes to see Jacob staring at the ceiling with rapt attention. Pebbles were falling into his face and clearly this annoyed him. As if the time stopped itself and played again frame by frame just for my viewing pleasure, I watched as a gleam lighted in a straight line snapped under Jacob's foot and how the rocks shifted infinitesimally revealing the pistol that Edward had held before he disappeared. The light was wrapped around the trigger and as it was pulled by Jacob's weight, it fired, aimed straight at his kneecap, going through with clean precision. The second the bullet pierced his skin he howled and that seemed to set off a large square in the ceiling above him, what he'd been staring at. It seemed to shake and then dropped itself in perfect shape onto Jacob's body, crumpling on him as he fell to the floor.

He lay there, unmoving, and I sat frozen as time warped back to normal, Jacob's blood trickling from under him and out in the open air. It was a few more seconds before Edward fell from the hole overhead and landed on the man I used to call a friend. He ground his foot between Jacob's shoulder blades and cursed before spitting on the back of his head, his expression passive. He came to me quickly, cutting through the tape with a pocket knife, throwing me over his shoulder, and racing out of the room and down the cave corridor. It was eerily dark and I wondered how he managed to see without running into a wall or getting lost. We ran for a few minutes before I felt my anxiety come at me full force. My body rocked with convulsions and I started screaming, just to scream.

Edward muttered, "Shit," under his breath and stopped to haul me off of him and lay me on the ground. I wanted to punch him in the face because now my head was slamming into hard ass rocks. "You couldn't do this some other time, Isabella? Like when we're not running for our lives?"

If I could have spoken I would have told him to kiss my ass. As a latter solution I screamed louder, just to piss him off. He shushed me but I basically flipped him off with pure volume. He looked confused for a moment, unsure of what to do before I saw the corner of his mouth twitch up.

"You're just having an attack from being scared. All you need to do is relax, Isabella. Your Ativan makes you relax, am I right? You're usually calm before I even give it to you. Just relax."

I tried but when I remembered the smell of Jacob's blood I made things worse.

He shook his head. "If you don't calm down yourself I'll have to make you." What the hell did that mean?

He stared into my eyes for a moment longer before fitting his mouth over mine, cradling my face. I still shook against him but I could feel myself letting go gradually, the spasms subsiding. This man was magic. His lips were insistent against mine, chaste but demanding, teasing me. His tongue licked at my lower lip before he sucked it between his teeth and pulled. I groaned and when I could feel my limbs again I noticed they had a mind of their own. My arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling him down on me and my legs were hitched around his waist. He was situated right between my legs and my hips, the most rogue of body parts, were grinding on him with wild abandon. His lips were turned upward under mine as he slid his warm hands up the back of my shirt and over my heated skin. He hitched it up over my midriff and I felt his fingers glide up my spine and back down again to my hips, repeating this circuit two more times before he pulled away. An involuntary whimper escaped me and it made his grin grow twice in size. He kissed the corner of my mouth once more before readjusting my shirt and pulling me into his arms. He got to his feet and I was again being carried down the corridor.

My hand was against my chest as I panted for breath, like I ran a damn marathon.

"I think that little performance of yours alerted the others."

"Others?"

He nodded, expressionless again. I hated his passiveness. "Of course. Did you think Jacob was going to come out here by himself?"

"How do you know him?"

"Business. Don't worry about it."

"Kiss my ass."

"No need to be eager. Maybe when I'm not carrying you to safety, love."

I rolled my eyes, fully knowing he wasn't going to tell me anything. "Where are we going?"

"The ice cellar."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

When we reached the room he pressed into the stalactite and hopped in the hole in the floor. When he told me to jump I did, less worried than before. He caught me and swiftly set me down before picking up the gas lamp against the ledge to our right. The opening closed soundlessly and I felt. . . safer.

"Why are we here?"

He pointed to the wall across from us, the same one that seemed strange before, and I stared at it for a while until I could see what he saw. I didn't so I turned to him for enlightenment. He smirked at my blank expression and nodded his head towards the wall. I gasped and shook my head and he nodded again.

"It's a fucking wall, Edward. How the hell do you expect to get around it?"

"Just follow me."

He scaled the ledge of te perimeter of the ice pit until he was in front of the jagged rocks and I followed behind him muttering several choice imprecations under my breath.

And then he disappeared into the rock wall.

I stopped dead in my tracks. "Okay." I ran my hand across my forehead and let out a gust of air as I shook my head. In the past several days or weeks or whatever I'd dealt with almost falling to my death, meeting a caveman that may or may not be just that, made out with him on several different occasions, being forced to obey any command given to me or have my life threatened, and have had more anxiety attacks than I would have had in 6 months.

"And I'm dealing with that pretty damn well, al things considered," I said aloud. "But I draw the line at a man who can walk through walls."

Edward reappeared just as suddenly as he'd vanished. "Are you coming? It's getting cold out here."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Just teach me how to walk through walls and I'll be right there, Harry Potter."

"Isabella."

"Okay, okay." I scrambled closer towards him and put my hand in his outstretched one. It may have seemed like nothing at first but I realized exactly what I was doing in that moment. I was offering my life to the devil, putting my life in his broad, hot palms. I was his to do with as he pleased now and there was no greater truth than that. I hesitated for a minute too long. He stared down at me with a careful expression as I just stood there, awkwardly pressed against the wall. I was fully submitting myself to him now. I'd always been a completely independent person, even as a kid living with my mother. I was the one that held all of the responsibility. But if I had any intention of living any longer I would have to get over my ridiculous pride. I took a deep breath and shuddered at the cold air pebbling my skin.

"Isabella!"

I gripped his hand and as when his hand closed over mine I felt the bind that would hold us together clank in my head with finality. I was his now.

He turned and stepped into the stone, or so it appeared. What looked to be a rough edge was actually a slice in the rock. I turned sideways and slithered into the tight space, wondering how Edward got in so easily. We scaled the rock for a few paces before I heard a grating noise and for a few heart stopping seconds I thought I would be crushed. But then the rock in front of Edward shifted and I was freed. I stumbled behind him into yet another corridor before he lifted me into his arms again and ran straight ahead. There was a small amount of light streaming down from above our heads and I gasped when I saw snow drifting in from a large crack that stretched forward in the direction we were headed. Outside.

"Can you walk on your own?"

My eyes fell on his and I nodded. It would be difficult but I'd have no choice regardless.

"It won't be a long one," he assured me. "Mostly sliding if I was being honest. The way down to your Jeep is completely ice and agile as I might be I don't think I can support your weight in addition to my own under these circumstances."

We ran a little further before we were _really _out of the cave. He set me on my feet and I breathed in a large gulp of open air before he tugged my hand for me to follow him. We were in a space absolutely surrounded by thick trees, completely concealed with the blanket of the night on our side. He wasn't kidding when he said it was icy. I could see the Jeep ahead of us and it gave me a sort of nostalgic feeling for my old life, a life that I would never again have. It was 30 feet of flat ice. Unsalted and unadulterated. Sliding was actually the best option.

I looked over at Edward to see him smiling at me. My eyebrows came together on my forehead.

"Ready?"

"Ready for what?"'

His grin grew wider before he took my hand and jetted out onto the ice, me in tow, and we fell straight on our asses. That shit was going to leave a mark. But we hadn't just fallen, we had fallen and were _still _sliding. I wanted to yell at him but I couldn't get my anger out past my fit of giggles as we slipped across the ice. When we did stop, just 10 feet from my car, he scrambled to his feet and pushed me the rest of the way before falling again. I couldn't control my guffaws at that point.

We hoisted ourselves up by the handles of the door and removed the snow tarp covering the top. He lifted me inside and I immediately fished the afghan my gram bought me from the backseat, wrapping it around myself as Edward skirted to the back of the car, carrying a tree trunk. He thrust it into the snow blocking the tires and for some reason I found this highly sexual.

When he was satisfied he hopped in the front seat, throwing the hood up and hot wired my car in what was 10 seconds.

"Damn," I muttered staring at the windshield as he cranked the heat up.

"I know." He backed out of a snow mound and we raced through the black night.

"So we're on the run for our lives?" I asked after a few minutes.

"Yup. Lucky us, huh?"

I nodded. "I don't suppose you'll be letting me run in my own direction, will you?"

"Definitely not."

"I see. Well exactly what are we up against?"

He shook his head, mostly to himself before he cast a glance in my direction. "I was wrong about you, wasn't I? I'm not usually wrong and the one time that I am, I end up fully responsible."

"I told you," I said quietly.

He sighed. "Yet another civilian caught in the crossroads and this time it's going to be on my head."

I didn't ask him what he meant because I didn't want to know. The truth would only hurt me. "So how exactly are we going to escape this?"

"I don't suppose you're opposed to travel at this point?" he asked in German.

I smiled a little before leaning my head back. "No, not really. Where are we going? New York?"

"Nope. Just a little bit farther away. We're going to Paris."

My head snapped forward and I was positively glaring at him now.

"Well do you have any better suggestions, Mrs. Anthony?"

I slammed my head into the dash and groaned when I cut my forehead.

So to top my list of Shit to Happen in a Matter of a Few Days, I was on the lamb from a bunch of rogues which included Jacob, I was fleeing the country, and I was unofficially married to Edward.

Shit.

* * *

**Until next time!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Big Thank You's to the readers, reviewers, pm'ers, alerter's, favoriter's, and anyone in between. (I don't think half of those are real words *snort*) You guys are making me so happy to have come up with the idea for this fic, and I'm loving the journey just as much as you are. Go on and read and I'll have my final say at the end. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 7: When Two Worlds Collide

"So, is the plan to avoid being seen, period?"

"That's exactly the plan."

"Well how easy is that going to be when, obviously, we need plane tickets and money?"

He glanced over at me with a sly smile before watching the road again. "Reach into the glove compartment," he said.

I did, sifting past the bundles and wads of Hamiltons, and my mouth literally fell open as I stared at the passport that read "Bella M. Anthony" on it with my picture. I turned to him, my eyes practically bulging out of my skull.

"When the hell-"

"Just a few days ago," he interrupted. "I had a feeling that sooner or later they'd come for the missing lamb."

"You must be my fucked up lion then, huh? Speaking of assholes, how do you know Jacob?" I turned in my seat to see him clearly. Of course, his face was the perfect mask of indifference save his eyes, and I could see the burning in them even from this angle. "Does he have something to do with this 'they'?"

"How do _you _know Jacob?" he asked, flipping the script completely. He took his eyes off the road to watch me and I immediately squirmed under his intense gaze. I don't how the hell he does that, just look at me and make my legs feel like rubber. He stared at me for what seemed like hours before looking at the road again, bemused.

"Keeping secrets from me?"

"If you can then I think I have the right to as well," I said shakily.

"I'm going to have my hands full with you, I suppose. I'll get it out of you soon enough."

"Asshole," I muttered. I lay my head on the passenger side window and yawned. All of this excitement in only such a short amount of time was wearing thin on me, and my sanity.

"Tired?"

"Can you blame me?"

"Go in the back. It would be smarter to keep you out of sight while wer'e in town."

"Say no more," I huffed climbing into the backseat. I sprawled out and bent my knees so I didn't kick out my windows. "Wake me when we're there."

It had to have been a maximum of eleven seconds before he told me to get up. I sighed heavily before making my way back to the front, plopping into my seat and crossing my arms over my chest. I looked over to see Edward's face no longer held any amusement. His eyes were sharp as he surveyed the road. I didn't realize we'd already reached the airport until I heard the sound of a plane flying directly over our heads but it was so dark that I barely saw it's shape. I had a flashlight on the dashboard and when I picked it up to shine out the window Edward damn near snapped my arm off he grabbed it so hard.

"Ow! Let go of me!"

"What are you doing?" he snarled, his face but a few inches from mine. He took the flashlight and chucked it into the back, his grip getting tighter still.

"Fuck! Edward, let go!"

"Are you trying to get us killed? Hmm?"

"Edward! Let! Me! GO!"

He dropped my arm harshly and I shrank back into the door, holding my arm just below the spot where he'd held it. He pinched the bridge of his nose and lay his head back against the seat, his eyes closed. My anxiety was threatening to push up past my skin but I held it at bay, willing my heart rate to slow itself down as I adjusted to the dark. It was becoming hideously clear how Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde this man could be. There was the calm side, the one that I could poke at and make fun of only to have him poke back just as hard. Then there was the rough, calloused side, the one who just revealed his ugly head for something as small as using a light. And to bridge both sides together into the complicated mess I call my captor, there was the side that didn't care, the one who acted first, spoke first, and asked questions always. The same one that allowed me to be free of my crawlspace, who gave me a warm bed and a hearty banter, and didn't make me feel uncomfortable, didn't make me feel like a captive. If only he would let me into that complicated head of his, let me see what he thinks so I could do better, could learn to do better.

"Isabella."

My eyes snapped to his face from my lap as I listened to what he had to say. That was exactly what I needed to do if I wanted to stay on his good side-listen and stay behind my boundaries.

"Do you see where we are right now?"

I cast a swift glance out the windshield and back to him. "The airport?"

"Exactly." He was in my face again, making it all types of difficult to focus. "Do you know why we're at the airport?"

"B-because we're going to Paris?"

"And why are we going to Paris?" he whispered.

"Because we're running away?"

"And you know whom from we're running? Besides Jacob?" I shook my head, my eyes flickering to his mouth, his eyes and back again. "From everyone," he continued. If I let you go home they will kill you, one way or another, and I would be unable to help you. Is that what you want, Isabella?"

"No," I breathed, and then his lips brushed against mine, a feather-light touch that sent fire down my skin. He pulled away just a fraction of an inch to whisper my name before dusting another light kiss to my mouth, and then another. Despite his gentle kisses when his hand found my side he grabbed it roughly, prodding his fingers into me. His other hand went to my head, cradling my skull like a precious egg until he fist my hair and forced my head back, making me gasp as he slipped his tongue between my teeth. My fingers fumbled on his shirt until I had a hold on his collar, then following up to his shoulders and around until I knotted my hands in the hair at the base of his neck, pulling him to me as if there was no possible way for us to be closer.

I was almost ready to jump into his lap until another plane took off over us. He pulled away slowly, reluctantly, and leaned his forehead against mine, his breathing uneven against my face. His breath was warm and delicious and I wanted more of him. I crashed my mouth to his again, taking his lower lip between my teeth before I felt a smile tug up the corner of his mouth and he removed my arms from behind him. He told me to calm down and I did almost instantly. We settled into our own seats in mirrored poses of our heads back before he spoke.

"Then you have to trust my instinct," he continued. What were we talking about? "You are in more danger than you can possibly even fathom, Bella. We're in the middle of a war and sadly you're in the heart of the battlefield. The worst part is neither side has a claim to you which means they both want you dead. They think you know more than you should-I thought you knew more than you should!-when you don't have a damn thing to do with this mess." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before looking at me. "Of all the people, why you?"

I didn't know how to answer him so I didn't. "So it's like a war between the good guys and the bad guys?" I asked instead.

He gave a short laugh. "In a way, yes, though I forget who is who now."

"So are you a hero or villain?" I said quietly.

"The villain, Bella. Always the villain."

x~x~x~x~x

After circling the airport a few times and parking behind a hangar he left me in the Jeep to get our tickets and flight times. He told me to remain quiet at all times no matter what and to stay out of sight. I reclined my seat back and lay on my side hoping to get a few minutes rest before he returned. It did not pass my notice that he left me absolutely alone, probably knowing I wouldn't be running off anywhere with supposed hit-men after me. When he cut the car off, obviously, the heat went off with it; the night chill was seeping in now and I curled into a ball to keep any heat I could. I was out in just a few breaths.

The driver side door open and I opened my eyes to see Edward hopping into his seat with such grace that the car barely moved. His face was hard, eyes sharp as he ducked his head, looking past me out of my window.

"Did you get the tickets?" I asked quietly.

He looked at me briefly then out the window again. "Yes. I got them but we'll have to leave a little later than planned. They already have the airport surrounded and taking you in there will have too many lives in danger simply for being in the crossing." He visibly relaxed as his hand gripped the steering wheel, the other reaching out to stroke the hair from my face, starting the car when he was satisfied.

"Where are we going?" I asked after a few minutes. We'd driven around a bit, like he'd done at the airport, probably leading anyone who might have been following us off.

He sighed. "I was thinking about going on a little shopping trip but that might be both time consuming and stupid. Where do you live?"

I was just a little dumbfounded at that. One because I was confused as hell, two because I almost forgot where I lived.

He prompted me again when I didn't answer. "Um, Chamberlain. 64 Chamberlain Ave." That address didn't belong in this scenario. Nothing from my former life did.

My new existence was full of action, drama, angst and lust. I looked over at Edward, my gaze focusing on his long, pale fingers clenching the wheel. I saw a sudden smirk dance on his mouth in the darkness and he looked at me, bemused. I went back to watching the world fly by in my window.

x~X~x~X~x~X~x

"Get out."

I hopped out of the moving vehicle swiftly, only stumbling a little, and dashed up my front porch. I swiped the spare key from the eave, pushed into the lock, and barreled through the door, to my bedroom without a glance around. From my peripheral I saw that everything was still in the perfect order I'd left it in when I disappeared from civilization. I ran through the walk in closet, pulling down any article of clothing that touched my hand. When I could hold no more, I threw everything over my arm and power walked back into the bedroom. Edward was already there, throwing entire dresser drawers into the suitcase that lay out on my bed. I stuffed clothes in as neatly as one could whilst hurling them as Edward did the same beside me. He went to get another drawer when he froze and just stared down at the contents within, his eyebrow cocked. I went to his side and cursed louder than necessary, a pair of racy lacy blue boy shorts the first thing to meet my eye. I pushed him over a little and carried the drawer to the bed, blindly grabbing a handful of lace and shoving it in the small section in the hood of the suitcase.

I cast a glance at copper head behind me and his eyebrow was still arched high, a goofy lopsided grin on his face.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I mumbled bitterly. He shook his head and asked me where the bathroom was. I gave him the direction and he ambled out of the room and down the hall to the left. As I struggled to fit more items in my luggage the house phone rang. A spread of panic hit me hard as I contemplated answering or not but I didn't want Edward to come out telling me what to do himself. Any small amount of independence I could get I would use. I hustled into the living room and grabbed the phone from the hook on the coffee table, wringing in my hands and letting it ring a few more times before putting the receiver to my ear and giving a brief greeting.

"Bella?"

My heart faltered, a chill striking through me so cold it made me shudder at the sound of Alice's high pitched voice. I wanted to cry, laugh, grieve, and confide all at once.

"Bella? Are you there?"

I took a deep breath and whispered that I wasn't dead nor deaf into the phone.

"Isabella Marie Swan, do you know worried sick I've been? You drop off the face of the earth for two weeks and your only goodbye is spicy bacon and fruity pancakes, which were delicious by the way."

I tuned the annoying pixie out and focused solely on the time she gave me. Two weeks, she said. I spent the last two weeks of my life in a cave with a man with temparament issues, away from civilization, away from my friends and family, away from sanity and all things right in my world. I chanced a look back down the hall to the bathroom, half expecting him to be standing in the doorway, a look of disapproval on his beautiful features.

"What's the date, Alice?"

"What?"

"What is today's date?"

"February 20, 2011. Any other ridiculous questions?"

Two weeks. . . I still couldn't believe it.

"You still haven't told me where you were. Rose, Esme and I have been off our fucking rockers looking for you! And don't even get me started on Charlie-"

"Oh, shit, your mom! She isn't going to fire me is she?"

"Isabella Marie, are you really asking me if Esme is kicking your Houdini ass to the curb? Would she ever even think of it? Hell, she likes you more than me! Now stop avoiding the damn question, where the hell have you been?"

Damn I needed a cover. I wasn't expecting to have to explain my whereabouts to anyone. 24 hours ago I thought I would spend the rest of my life in a cave. 2 hours ago I thought I would be on a plane to Paris, and now. . .

"I was in South America," I blurted. It was the first thing to come to mind. "Um, you remember that solo project Esme was tossing around in December, right? Well, er, Forks Crystal Caverns didn't exactly live up to it's glory for me so I just up and packed and got the next flight out of the country."

"Swan, you're not spontaneous. You never have been."

Come on, Alice, just believe the lie. "Well it wasn't really just a random decision. I was thinking of going anyway if they didn't accept my proposal; the timing was perfect, I guess."

"Mhmm. Well a call would have been nice but I guess that's too good for you, Missy. And what the hell happened to your phone? I called and it said you weren't connectible."

Fuck, Edward. "Er, um, I broke it on the flight. Dropped it in the toilet." That's something I would do.

"Should I wire you some money to get a new one? As a matter of fact, I'll bring it over myself-"

"NO! No! Alice, no! Stay where ever the hell you are, okay? I'll get a damn phone, just don't come over." I would go to hell, heaven and back to keep her safe, away from this web of chaos I'd created. I didn't want her within two miles of this place.

"Bella, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Just then a loud thud sounded from outside that made me jump ten feet in the air. "Fuck," I muttered. Where was Edward? Could that have been him?

"What's going on?" Alice demanded.

Edward came strolling in through the front door, and I smelt the blood on his shirt before I saw it. His face was completely dispassionate as he looked back at me but his eyes were completely contradicting, ablaze with fire, anger, and mistrust.

"Bella!"

"Yeah, Alice, I gotta go. Um, I'm going back. I just came home to get a few things." I couldn't take my eyes off of the man's in front of me and, honestly, I didn't know what the hell I was telling the pixie on the phone. ". . .gotta go back and finish up things. Tell Esme."

"Bells-!"

" Bye." I ended the call, placing the phone back on the hook and disconnected the phone line. Just in case.

"Who was that?" he asked moving closer to me. He shrugged his leather jacket off and tossed it onto my couch, his arms clad in a black thermal. The whole shirt seemed too tight but when he he pulled his sleeves up to his elbows I wondered if skin itself could be too tight. His muscles were taut and sinewy and just perfect paired with his pale complexion. My eyes fell down his body lazily, taking in the deepness of his chest, down to the visible 'V' that dipped into his low riders, the same low riders that hugged his legs like fucking wrapped plastic. I raised my hand to fan myself, unconsciously doing so, and he laughed as he reached me, his thumb tilting my head up to meet him. He put his lips to mine gently and stroked my jaw lovingly, reverently, his other arm coming around my back to hold me against him. I sighed and melted to his form. It was just so easy to feel. . . right in his arms, though it was more wrong than a thousand blasphemies. How many times had he kissed me today? Three? Four? And each time it was before I broke out in anxiety. Was he. . . distracting me? From what? Did he cause the noise from outside?

As much as I loathed to, I needed to ask these questions, so I pulled away from him, turning my head as he tried to get to me again and his lips sucked greedily on my jaw. I moaned, embarrassingly loud, and pushed his chest. He backed away but kept his arm around me.

"We need to talk," I said.

"Okay," he agreed easily, leading me to sit on the couch with him, surprising me when he lifted me by the hips into his lap. "Shoot."

Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde, Prof. Edward again? "Um, okay." I wrung my hands in front of me, nervous and embarrassed of the questions that I was going to ask as well as the answers I would receive. "Edward. . . do you find me attractive?"

He made a noise in the back of his throat and skimmed the tip of his nose over my arm, raising goosebumps in his wake. "Yes, I do."

"Oh. Why?"

"Because you are fairly attractive, Isabella. A fact that fails to escape me." He drew a finger across my back, around my side and slid it just beneath the hem of my shirt, stroking my abdomen. His fingers were cold from being outside and it made me shudder.

"Well when you kiss me, is it because you find me attractive. . . or for something else?"

His hands stopped their movements and I was afraid I'd offended him.

"Not that I'm accusing of something, or anything!" I recovered quickly. "I was just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat, love. You of all people should know that."

I lowered my head to my lap to hide my blush and I heard him chuckle under his breath, deep and full of unique timbre.

"Sometimes it's one, and sometimes the other. I admit that at times I am trying to. . . manipulate your attention-and it works- and other times, when I want to, which is fairly often, I just want to feel your lips against mine." He said this while running his thumb over my bottom lip. "But it's really not important, now is it? I need to get your luggage into the Jeep-"

"Wait! Why is there blood on your shirt?"

"Mm. We had a visitor outside and I handled him accordingly. He was listening in on your conversation so I didn't think you would mind." He gave me a pointed look, lifting me off his lap and on the seat next to him.

"No, that was just Alice. I didn't tell her anything, honestly. I'm in South America right now so she won't come here."

"Okay. Get comfortable. Our flight is in the morning and I'm expecting someone." He stood then and meandered out of the room. I sprawled out in the loveseat, too tired to go in the bedroom, and was out like a light.

A quick rap on the door dragged me out of my peaceful slumber. My head was in Edward's lap, his fingers stroking the length of my hair. He moved me gingerly off of him and went to get the door. He looked through the peephole and swung the door open revealing a strawberry blonde bombshell in a cat suit and a sawed off shot gun in hand, aimed straight at me.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So this two week intermission thing I have going on, I'm thinking it might be permanent. I'm not saying it absolutely will be but real life is kicking my ass right now and I need time to construct, reconstruct, deconstruct, and paint over my messes to get the story out :(


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **Be honest, how surprised are you to see a new chapter up? *snort* My laptop kicked the bucket which means everything I had saved went six feet under as well. I was devastated. So now I'll be _writing _my chapters out then taking a nice little drive to the library to type it up and get it to you guys until I can afford another pc. It sucks but I was being completely unfair to you all. Okay, read, and I have some good news for you below.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 8: Reflection

I stood frozen in place, my heart palpitating much too quickly. My skin heated in what felt like an instant. A quiver rocked through me, slow and strong until I felt it from the crown of my head to the tip of my toes. It was gone as swiftly as it came, though; I'd had so many attacks lately that my body was beginning to tire from the fruitlessness of it.

"Put the fucking gun down, Tanya."

I watched as Edward stepped aside, leaving the door open for the woman to come in. He rolled his eyes at her and came to sit beside me on the couch, his arm going behind my back nonchalantly.

"Oh, but Eddie the guinea pig is right where we want her." The woman inclined her head around the gun and winked at me. I noticed that she had an accent as well, distinctly Swedish. "Such a small, pale girl for such a high price and she's right where we want her," she purred.

Edward screamed something at her in her native tongue that I didn't quite catch and she grinned before she brought the weapon to her hip. "_Bajs pa dig_," she smiled gliding over the threshold. "Such a small girl for such a price and you want her all to yourself. Tanya," she said holding her hand out to me, bent at the wrist as if she wanted me to kiss it. "Edward tells me you are fluent in my language."

I nodded, shifting my gaze back to Edward who sat motionlessly staring at Tanya.

"Good, then we will speak it in his presence as he does not know much."

And then there was a deep breathing bouncing off the walls. Stunned, I looked to my right to see Edward's face twisted up in a snarl. He was growling. Without thinking about it, I covered his hand with my own and intertwined our fingers; it was an immediate reaction, to do something to calm him down. I knew what he was like when his temper rivaled his indifference. His stiff posture relaxed somewhat and leaned back but his expression never went slack.

"Tanya, Bella, our lost little American. Bella, Tanya, my sometimes partner. She will be aiding us in our escape to Europe. She is very good at what she does and I would only entrust you with the best. She's the only person I come close to trusting with something like this."

Tanya rolled her eyes and sat daintily on the arm of the loveseat next to Edward, tossing the shotgun in the corner of the room like it wasn't dangerous or something. I could of sworn I heard the leather of her suit squeaking. "If he didn't trust me we wouldn't have married so long ago. My silly, _koppar bjorn_," she cooed pinching his cheek to which he responded by wincing away from her into my side.

_Wait, what?_

"What?" I asked dumbly. Maybe I heard her wrong. "You said you were _married_?"

"_Ar du halla vara atkenskap en hemlighet?_" she asked playfully. "Yes, _flicka, _we were married. Partners." She held up the fourth finger of her left hand after making air quotes with a blinding smile. "Seven years ago. I don't remember the date which means _koppar bjorn _here does not either, but what does that matter?"

Against my wishes my eyes flickered to Edward's hand, the hand wrapped around mine, and suddenly my entire arm felt like it was freezing up, losing feeling. The gold band of his fourth finger gleamed back at me with a sparkle that my overactive imagination bitchily created. I turned away from it, my chin falling to my chest and my hair creating a curtain between me and the man beside me. I felt embarrassed beyond words, my face was a burning opposite to my arm. I loosened my fingers to remove my hand but Edward held on even tighter. I wanted to scowl at him, put him down for playing with me the way he had only to be _married. _Matrimony was now a filthy word in my head.

Tanya watched us looking quite bored, expecting some fight of sorts but being disappointed instead. She shrugged. "Well technically we're married but besides that there's not much else there."

"Then why not get a divorce?" The words were out before I could catch them; I bit down on my tongue to avoid speaking altogether.

Again she shrugged. "Edward keeps spouting some _skit _about ethics. _Oavsett. _I could care less; I do as I please with or without the ring."

"Seven years ago?" I asked quietly, breaking the temporary blanket of silence.

"Ja," she said simply. Our escapades were done the second our vows were said. A waste, really."

I peeked at Edward from the corner of my eye to see him _gawking _at me, gauging my reaction. I doubt he could tell from behind my little barrier but I didn't know how to react anymore. The anger had left my body completely, leaving me tired and uninterested, like Edward.

"Er, well, I have to take care of a few things so I'll be back. Tanya."

With that, Edward got to his feet and slipped through the backdoor down the hall. I stared after him, confused. I just found out that not only is there a bounty on my head, but that my wildly trifling abductor is married. Why in the _hell _was he uncomfortable?

"You know the situation you are in, no? That hundreds of men in arms are after you?"

I nodded with my tongue between my teeth.

"Then you know that going anywhere as you are is an instant way to get yourself killed, ja? This is simple matter to fix, ja. It's as simple as changing your appearance. Nothing drastic, of course," she added seeing the horror in my eyes, "but just a few things to throw your pursuers off."

I felt ashamed of myself at that moment. I unquestioningly listened to what she was saying but I found myself resenting Tanya suddenly. That received an immediate chastising because I was being petty, hating Edward's betrothed when clearly she was his to begin with, before I even knew about him. I had no right to feel this way towards her, but, more importantly, I damn sure shouldn't have felt this way because she was with Edward of all people. I wanted to ask exactly what she was planning to change but my teeth simply wouldn't release my tongue. Maybe if I bit down hard enough. . .

"_Val, komma pa! _Get up, go shower, and be quick! I would like to be done with this before _min alskling _returns."

I stood upon my dismissal and shuffled my way to the bathroom, my head bent low. I closed the door behind me and knelt my head against the door, just breathing. I needed to get my emotions in check. Maybe breathing the same stale, musty air of the cave for so long was fraying my brain, messing with things that it had no business near.

I turned to the shower and was met with the full length mirror attached to the sliding door. I gasped as my eyes connected with the broken girl's in the mirror. I took a step closer, wanting a better look, and then another until we were but a few inches apart. Her mousy brown hair was mussed about her head, curly in some places, tangled and knotty in others. Her skin was an unearthly pale, marred with deep purple blotches and brown dust from head to toe, even on her clothes. She had scars and bruises, plenty of them in the most random of spots, some looked benign but others looked horrendous. On her chin were two dark blue spots, the shape of fingertips ; they looked fresh, recently done. This was a benign marking. But on her arm, near the triceps area, there was a hideous scar that was black and blue, yellow around the sides, that crept up her arm and disappeared into the sleeve of her flannel. I wanted to see more but the girl across from me seemed to be following my lead. I hooked my finger around my sleeve and slowly revealed the rest of the bruise. It went all the way up my shoulder. With a shudder I closed my eyes-I didn't want to see anymore.

Without opening my eyes I stripped the clothes from my body, one by one. When I was completely unclothed I went to set the water temperature: scalding hot. I stepped right into the spray, ignoring the burn, relishing in the idea of cleansing. Cleansing my body, my mind, my confusion, all of it. I stood there for a moment, just feeling before I had the strength to pick up the container of soap. I took a random cloth from the shower caddy and poured as much soap on it as possible before it leaked down the drain. I scrubbed every inch of my skin, watching as the purple and brown colors washed away, but being careful of my arm.

_Edward did this to you._

Edward is saving my life.

_Edward almost took it from you._

Edward is good.

_Edward will be the death of you._

I brought the rag to my face, scowling into as I scoured away at the impurities. This wasn't something that I actually wanted to think about. I didn't want to think about anything.

So I didn't. I scrubbed and scrubbed until I was practically shining, then washed my hair thoroughly, the dirt and rubble falling down my body to the point where I had to scrub again. By the time I was done I felt positively _raw. _I toweled off and wrapped the cloth around me, heading down the hallway to where Tanya was. She was perusing through my photo albums, her long legs crossed on my coffee table. At any other time I would have cursed her out for such poor house manners but I was feeling quite numb at the moment.

"Took you long enough," she said in Swedish, her head still bent to the album. "I hope you are clean enough to eat off of." She closed the book and stood to set it back on the shelf it lay on. "You never asked me what I planned to change on you. Well I was going to tell you anyway." She sauntered over to me with her hands raised. She lifted my chin up high and pressed down on my shoulders. "We will cut your hair, not much but just a few snips off the ends and maybe even a fringe would do you nicely. The next change would be your clothing. While you were away I took the liberty of looking through your wardrobe." She stuck her tongue out and pointed to her throat. "Gag worthy in my opinion, and those who are after you will actually be expecting you to be wearing things like that. Or they would expect a radical change. We will take the subtle approach. Edward was kind enough to fetch my trunk of clothes for you so in the morning you will bring those with you instead. Your clothes, we will ditch them somewhere. Now let's get to work."

I sat on the loveseat in the main room, clad in nothing but my towel with my hair falling down my back in waves. With a measured look, she lifted my hair in her hand and with one clean cut sliced it in half so it fell to just below my shoulders. I whimpered as a few locks fell to my bare lap but it was for the best of course. Next she straightened it, using leave-in conditioners and curlers in random spots before combing it all out. The lasting effect was. . . different. The tendrils of hair at my temples spilled down in loose curls that she pinned back at the ends to the side of my head, which was stalk straight. Next she pulled the hair in front of my head down over my face before cutting it until it fell just over my eyes in a dark mahogany fringe. I looked good.

"Perfect," she purred. "You look gorgeous and with some makeup tomorrow you will look utterly delicious.

"Is Edward back?" My lips had formed the words before my brain could filter them. I hadn't even thought to speak-I just did.

"Yes, _flicka. _He put himself in the room farthest down the hallway, the guest room, ja? He set himself up there so you can go straight to bed as he did."

"Actually, I'd prefer Isabella and I in the same room tonight." I turned my head to see Edward stroll over to us. He tilted my chin just as Tanya did and looked me over. When he saw my chin his eyes narrowed slightly. His eyes trailed down my body, cataloguing every feature that met his gaze. I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat. My skin was still very flushed from the hot shower and I felt even warmer with Edward touching me with so little between us.

"I'm afraid we might still have a few guests amongst us and she's every bit as safe near me as she is next to me."

Tanya shrugged nonchalantly. "My job is done here, Edward. I will be on a plane to France within the hour, of course, and I will let you know of any activity in the terminals, ja?" She kissed both of my cheeks and swatted my bottom before giving Edward an amorous hug that he didn't return and walking out the front door.

"You should eat something," Edward suggested, producing a brown paper bag from thin air. I was definitely exhausted.

"No. See, right now, we're in _my house. _I cook _in my house. _So I'm going to make a nice home-cooked meal, enjoy it, and then I'll be off to bed. You're free to join me if you want." I turned on him and went straight to the kitchen connected to the main room by a mere arch, my white porcelain sanctuary.

"Isabella, we have a very long day tomorrow and it is in your best interest to get as much sleep as possible-"

"Well, that's all very fine and good but I'm tired of eating store made unknowns, okay, Edward? This could very well be the last time I set foot in my own house and I would at least-_at least!-_like to enjoy a simple meal made by my own hands. I'll make something simple and quick, it won't take me any longer than 20 minutes. Eat with me. Time will fly, I swear."

You could see the objection in his eyes but I guess he was giving me this single pardon. He gave an annoyed sigh and followed behind me. I went to the fridge, skimming over everything inside before catching a now rotting head of lettuce. I slid the temperature control box open and examined the greenery, peeling back the layers of dead leaves and tossing them in the trash. The inside was still quite crispy so I would be able to use it. Next came the deep-freezer. Steak, ham, turkey, chicken wings. I pulled the chicken out and threw the bag in the sink, turning the hot water to high, quick defrost method.

"What are you making?"

Edward was perched on a stool, his face in his hands as he watched me chop the lettuce.

"Chicken Primavera," I answered without looking up.

"I've never had that."

"Well I remember seeing a Go Green special on the cooking channel a while before, uh, we met and it was quick to make, easy to digest, and made without preservatives so, yeah."

"You cook often?"

"Every other night, actually."

"What do you have in between?"

"Take out."

I left my station at the counter and rinsed the chicken off at the sink after the ice chips melted away. I set them on a flat pan and threw them in the already preheated oven then went back to the lettuce.

"Seeing as how you're going to be my wife in just a matter of hours I suppose it would be necessary for us to get to know one another. Well let's start with what we already know about each other. I'll go first. Your name is Isabella Marie Swan, 26 years old, born in Forks, Washington on September 13, 1985. Your father, Charlie Swan, chief of police of Forks, is divorced to your mother, Renee Swan, who is now married to a minor Leaguer named Phil. Brown eyes, brown hair with flecks of auburn, easily bruised, a degree in anthropology, and a cook."

"I'll go next," I said, only slightly flustered with how much he knew. "Your name is Edward and you have brown and copper hair with green eyes."

It looked like he wanted to laugh but he settled on looking amused. "Yes, that's all very correct but it's not enough to get us anywhere."

I set the cooking timer and pulled up a chair at the dinner table and put my chin on my laced fingers. "Then please, my husband-to-be, enlighten me._Who are you?"_

He deliberated something before answering me. "Edward Anthony. 27. Born on June 20 in Wales. Moved to the States at the age of three." He paused for a minute, his eyes tightening and his expression undecipherable. "Son of Elizabeth. One sibling. No other known relatives. No degree."

He was silent for a long time and I didn't ask him any questions though there were so many broiling in my head. What about his family made him so defensive? He left his father out of the description entirely but why? Who was the sibling? And none of this explained why he was in the cave.

The timer shrilled, causing me to jump out of my seat but Edward hadn't moved an inch. I pulled the chicken out of the oven and pealed the meat from the bones into the bowl of lettuce.

"Do you need help?"

I startled at the sound of Edward's voice so close to me but recovered quickly, nodding my head and asking him to cut up some tomatoes. He went to the fridge, pulled the baby tomatoes out and brought them to the counter. There was a knife already there for him. I watched him as he cut small slivers into the fruit, his eyes focused on the task at hand. So I saw the exact second that the blade caught onto the pad of his index finger, before any indication that the blood was going to flow.

"Shit, Edward." I dropped my task and swiftly washed my hands before grabbing his wrist and pulling him over to the water. The water was warm and as the blood went down the drain his nick began to pucker into a pink line, about half an inch long. I turned the water off and dried his hand per towel just to my right. It was still bleeding a little. "I may have to put some peroxide on it to clean it. It won't hurt much but it'll sting."

Then I felt Edward's fingers on my chin, coaxing my face up. When my eyes met his I gasped. His jade green eyes were dark, almost black, and they held me for an immeasurable amount of time. Gone was the façade that he worked so hard to keep up in front of me. I saw his every emotion there in just a few seconds. Pain, betrayal, hope. . .lust. He almost looked young, like a little boy, vulnerable and afraid but acting tough to avoid being hurt anymore.

My hand glided up his arm, over his broad shoulders until it was against his cheek, smooth and sharp. "Edward-"

Without warning he spun me around so my back was flush with his front, his right arm wrapped around my waist, holding me to him.

"Turn the water on," he whispered into my hair. I did, turning the knobs until it was warm. "I'm still bleeding," he said offhandedly.

"Wash it off," I said shakily.

"No." He took my chin again, between his thumb and middle finger and held his bleeding index finger just before me.

"Edward, wash your hand." I was getting light-headed inhaling the smell of salt and metal that was his blood. I never liked blood.

"No," he muttered again. I tried to turn my face away but he just caught me, swiping his bloody finger across my mouth. I whimpered then gasped as he caught my lower lip between his teeth before sucking it into his mouth. I tried to push him away, my fists beating in his chest to get him to back up but my resistance crumbled as I fisted the sleeve of his shirt, pulling him as close to me as was possible in such an awkward position. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and moaned tasting him. His breath was sweet against my face, a bitter opposite from the salty, hot taste of blood. I moved my hands to his hair trying to twist in his arms but he held me fast.

I was now hyperaware of how little was between us. Stripping was but a flick of the finger away. I moved the hand from his sleeve to the edge of the towel. The arm around my waist vanished and I felt his hand cover mine, stilling me.

"Stop," he whispered against my mouth.

"You stop," I pouted.

He pulled away from me then, swatting my hand away and pulling the towel tighter around my body.

I stood there, my jaw just a few inches from the floor, staring at him. How was it even possible to pull away? He must have had the will of Iron Man.

_Kissing a married man?_

I did it before! Why should it matter now? And besides, it would be impossible to deny the raw chemistry between us. Couldn't be done. My body _sang_for him, called for him in every way.

_Mayhaps he doesn't feel the same? Maybe he was just stringing you along to make you easier to deal with._

Possible but I doubted it. If I wasn't reaching for him, it was he for me so he had to feel it too.

"We need to get to bed soon."

I snapped my eyes away from him and went back to stripping the chicken from it's bones into the bowl. Without turning I asked him to set our plates-I could handle tomatoes myself. After everything was blended I served our food and pulled a bottle of white wine and two glasses from the cabinet.

We ate in silence, just bordering awkward. I didn't have anything to say to him that he wouldn't dodge and I never knew what was going on in his head. We finished, cleaned up our mess and I led him into my bedroom.

The suitcase I'd packed was long gone now. I walked into the closet and pulled a nightgown down for bed. I was _infamous _for purchasing the finest quality lingerie ever. Alice and Rose constantly teased that I spent more money on one Teddy than I did on a month's worth of casual wear. This one was simple but made of pure white silk with black trimming. It was the least flashy piece I had and if I was trying to avoid jumping Edward's bones more was better.

I dressed in the dark, throwing the towel over a clothes rack and sauntering back into the room. I pulled the covers back and slipped under them, melting into the sheets, just in time to see Edward settling on the floor. He switched off the table lamp and stretched out on his post. The cold, hard floor-I'd felt it on my feet.

"You don't have to sleep down there," I said before I could regret the impulse. "There's room for both of us up here."

"Go to sleep , Bella."

"Look, I know you have absolutely no interest in me sexually, okay?" I cut him off before he could interrupt. "So clearly there's no problem with us sharing a bed. We've done it before. It's sort of cold in here and we'd both be a lot warmer if you slept up here."

I couldn't see his face in the shadows but I was pretty sure he was exasperated.

"For the love of God," he murmured, "would you go to sleep? You may have slept well for the past few days but I haven't really gotten any sleep at all. I'm only human."

"I doubt that," I muttered. "Suit yourself, then." I turned away from him to the bay windows, staring at the grass of Lauren's untidy lawn.

"_Merde_," he said, picking himself up and climbing into the bed behind me. "It's too small a bed not to touch you," he said grumpily.

He wasn't lying. His body alone took up half of the bed. He was a lot _bigger _than I thought he was. His body curved to fit the shape of my back, and he fit magnificently.

"Just so you know, I was only badgering you because I'd safer if-" His hand covered my mouth, stopping me mid-sentence. I had the terrible urge to swipe my tongue out but I took it between my teeth, chastising myself again.

"Shut the fuck up," he said sweetly in my ear, "or I'll tie you up and gag you and put _you _on the floor. Do you understand me, love?"

I didn't doubt he would do it. As he spoke, each syllable seemed to caress my skin, that faint accent of his seeming more pronounced. I nodded best I could with his hand over my mouth and he slowly moved it. I wanted to tell him that I was unwilling to share the bed now but he'd probably roll me on the floor.

His body was incredibly warm pressed up against mine. Vindictive as I felt, I still felt a heated languor course throughout my body. I might have been able to sleep well after all, what with the wine and the warmth and the undeniable feeling of utter security with Edward wrapped around me. I wanted to stay awake though, just to spite him.

How was he going to get me to Paris in one peace? The longer we stayed here, the more dangerous it became, the more likely someone would find us. Would we be better off just state hopping, or going cross-country all together? Would the forged passport go through?

Everything had taken a blessed haze of unreality. I'd seen him try to kill a man, Jacob, shoot him with no regrets whatsoever, and yet I could barely remember it. _It was only a few hours ago! _Maybe everything that had gone on in the past few days in the caves would wind itself up in a little bubble that never really touched me again. I wouldn't have to remember it, wouldn't have to deal with it. It would just be gone.

I wondered if that was how people usually dealt with traumatic episodes such as these. I made witnessing a murder seem like a child prank compared to living in a cave for two weeks, being codependent on a man you could barely trust and going on the run from a bunch of people out to get you. Someone died, someone got hurt, someone had developed a sick fascination for. . .

I mentally shook my head, like picking up a snow globe and waving it around to see something else. But all of the pieces were still there, still staring you in the face. I shiied away from the path my mind was taking. I tried to inch away from Edward's body, but his arm clamped around my waist, pulling me back. "Lie still," he muttered sleepily.

I could feel him all along my spine now, the sensation of warmth and strength, bone and muscle and the unmistakable feel of him against my ass. It felt like he was pretty happy to be near me right now but that could have been all my imagination alone since he had no interest in me, yet I had all the interest in the world in him.

Stockholm Syndrome, didn't they call it? When the hostage developed an unhealthy obsession with her captor? This was a normal reaction, I reasoned-we were in a life-or-death situation, and so far he'd managed to keep me well and alive. But there was no way to deny that I was scared. The only thing standing between me and a painful, hideous death was his body, and I wanted it. But he didn't want me, and he'd basically said as much. When one is married to Sexy Betty what would they want with Plain Jane? In the end, his lack of interest was a good thing. Feelings would only complicate things. All Edward wanted was to keep me safe and alive and back home where I wouldn't be murdered without supervision. And that was a very good thing.

Developing an unhealthy captivation for him was not unexpected and once the sword was removed from over my head everything would be back in perspective.

The bed was definitely too small. There was no way I could move away from him without hitting the floor. A bright streak of moonlight hit me then and trailed up past my head. I could turn just enough to see his face. He slept, which amazed me slightly, and none of my jostling around had woken him. The sharp, hard features of his face seemed to glow in the darkness of the room and again I had the deep urge to touch him. I balled my hands into fists and lay my head back down on the soft pillows, listening to the sound of his heartbeat against my back. At least he had a heart-something I wondered about. He was human, he was warm and strong and ready to kill to keep me safe.

What more could I want in a man?

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Small Glossary for Tanya's Swede:

_Bajs pa dig: _Poo on you.

_Koppar bjorn: Copper Bear_

_Ar du halla vara atkenskap en hemlighet?: _Are you keeping our marriage a secret?

_Oavsett: _Whatever.

_Flicka: _Girl.

_Val, komma pa!: _Well, hurry up!

_Min alskling: _My sweetheart.

_Ja_: Yes or Yeah.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Propositions and Tribulations

Again, I awoke to the feeling of being smoldered. I curled my fingers, my nails lightly scratching over Edward's chest. My head was tucked beneath his chin and clearly he'd ridded himself of his shirt. I looked to the far wall-a white light shone over the closet door, brightening the room; it was still night. I'd slept peacefully, but what pulled me to consciousness was the unsettling feeling of being watched, of eyes on my back.

This made me want to panic but reason brought me back to center. If someone was watching why would they hesitate while Edward and my defenses were down? It would be much easier for them to take us while we slept. I was probably, more than likely, over-imagining from lack of sleep. With that, I settled back into Edward's embrace, drifting off easily.

x~X~x~X~x

An orange light shone behind my eyelids, startling me. This was going to take time to get used to, I thought as a small bubble of laughter pushed it's way up past my throat. I'd been foreign to the sun long enough to forget what it was, something as universal as the brilliance of the sun.

"What's so funny?"

The low timbre of his voice made his chest vibrate with each word. He cupped my chin, tilting my face up to see him. He was magnificent, as always, but something about actually waking up to him in the morning added to that. His chin was covered in morning stubble, his eyes drooped at half-mast over his mossy green orbs and his hair was everywhere. The streaming sunlight bounced off of his brown mop, showing beautiful flecks of auburn, almost bronze tints. Beautiful without even trying.

"Just a side thought," I murmured, still staring at him in awe.

"How did you sleep?" he asked drawing invisible lines down my spine.

"Well," I lied, turning away from him to watch my fingers twist in the sheets. "You?"

"I slept just fine," he began. The heat from his hand trapped my cheek, pulling me up so we were now eye to eye. I was now distantly aware of the state of my appearance; I had to look terrifying. "but I would prefer a real answer on your part. Now, how did you sleep?"

"Bad." I emphasized, annoyed.

"Why?"

"Why do you care?"

He shrugged. "Platonic curiosity."

I exhaled sharply through my nose. There was no need to subjugate him with my breath. "Bad dream."

"About?" he pressed.

"Distant relations," I responded flatly.

"Is that all?"

I didn't answer, I just gave him a leveled stare that conveyed my wanting of a subject change.

"Tell me, chere," he whispered, touching the tip of his nose to mine. "What did you dream of?"

It was so easy, too easy, to lose myself with him, to let my guard drop under his whim. Coming to the revelation that I did last night, I knew he had an advantage over me now, that soon he would be aware of the advantage as well, that he would hurt me, when he found out.

I dreamt that I was with James again, that we were happily engaged as we were before, that Jacob never came back in my life. It was peaceful for the most part but there was a shadow on my shoulder as broad as daylight, who made it impossible to enjoy the dream. He squawked at me constantly, black whispers of treachery that tore at my heart and happiness little by little. This shadow stayed with me until my advancement to middle-age; we were growing old together. I would snap at James and he would put an infinitesimal amount of distance between us. The more I got angry, the larger the space became until finally he was far enough away for Jacob to swoop in and take him from me, steal him right from under my protective clutch. And I watched him do it. I watched him as he put the mouth of the gun to James' temple and pulled the trigger. That was when the sun flooded my dreams, pulling me awake.

I didn't understand the dream and I didn't understand the context of how I was portraying myself, as a demanding bitch. This was not the first of my unexplainable dreams and, depending on the topic, I usually had Alice or Rosalie decipher the confusion for me, break it down into baby steps so that I knew what was going on in my head. All I could gather from this was that James was deftly putting a void of space between us, leaving me but sparing my feelings. But this was purely speculation. I didn't know but I would find out.

I wasn't sure how, but from this haze of a dream I had made myself believe that Edward would hurt me next, would lead me to shallow waters only for me to discover I was drowning. It was unethical to pin every new relationship with the opposite sex to a misfortunate future outcome-they'd done nothing to deserve the prediction and yet everything to fit the category.

"Distant relations," I said finally, refocusing my gaze on Edward.

The pad of his thumb stroked the skin under my eye reverently, slow and precise. "Are you going to cry?" he asked quietly.

I scoffed. "No. Why would I cry?"

"A better question is what are you hiding, ma belle? What is making you want to cry?"

"You don't care."

"You wouldn't know that."

"You wouldn't understand it."

"You won't let me try."

I sighed, exasperated. What was the harm in telling him? "Jacob killed my fiancée," I said simply. "In front of me."

"Is that how you know him?" he inquired, his eyes suddenly sharp with scrutiny.

"No, I knew him before then but for the life of me I can't remember the old Jacob." My finger nails dug into the skin of his chest, but Edward didn't seem to notice.

"Were you close before this?"

I considered that for a second. We were good friends but Jacob was kind of reserved as a kid. "Not really," I admitted. "But we were friends. Before he went running off after Sam like a lost dog." I grumbled the last part under my breath but Edward heard this as if I'd shouted it at him.

He leaned up on his elbows which caught me off guard, so now we were chest to chest. God, he was warm.

"Sam Uley?"

I rolled my eyes. "Do you know everyone I know? Have you been stalking me?" I asked seriously.

"Small world," he deadpanned. "What do you know about him?"

"Not a damn thing. All I know is that when Jacob basically told me to fuck off he mentioned something about going into a trade service with Sam and I hadn't seen him again until he murdered my fiancée and then again when he came for you. What kind of fucking trade service is Uley running?"

A crude smile curled one side of Edward's mouth up into a grin. "Trade service, huh?"

"Well," I sighed. "Now you know how I know Jacob and what made me upset. Is that all?"

"For now," he admitted after a moment. "But now we have something serious to discuss."

"Even more serious than murder?" I gasped sarcastically.

His eyes swam with amusement but his face remained serious. He picked my hand from his chest and held it firmly in his, staring at it for a time before rising his eyes to meet mine.

"It seems you and I have a bit of a chemical attraction," he began. "that goes both ways," he added when I lowered my eyes. He tilted my chin up with our conjoined hands, forcing me to look at him. "While there is nothing wrong with this, in fact quite the opposite, it does complicate business. On both sides.

"You already know what needs to be done starting today on. We-" he kissed my knuckles, "are married, and as such, have the right to showcase our attraction as boisterously as we please. But when we're alone, we must control ourselves. Solitarily, we have to plan and plot and dividing that time by even a fraction for selfish needs will get us both killed, don't you agree?"

I nodded absently. I was thrilled that we were thinking on the same track albeit a little unmotivated to show my feelings in public and not in privacy.

"So, Isabella Marie Anthony, please, do me the favor of kissing me this last time as Bella Swan."

He cradled my face in his hands and brazenly touched his tongue to my lips, shoving his way not so gently into my mouth. I inhaled sharply through my nose, thoroughly shocked at how bold he was. How impudent of him! He had no idea if I even wanted him this close! My lust won out over my annoyance as I moaned but I wasn't going to let the fire go to waste. He had control over every other aspect of our fucked up relationship but I wasn't going to let him lead this one. I clamped my hands down on his shoulders and pushed him back so I hovered over him, molding my mouth to his as forcefully as he had. Our tongues seemed to be in a battle to the death, clashing, withdrawing, circling the opponent and clashing again for dominance.

I trailed my fingers up the strong column of his neck into his hair, getting a grip before pulling him back from me. He hissed, genuinely hissed, before his hand flashed up to my throat, forcing my head to tilt straight up at an almost uncomfortable angle. I gasped, my grip on his hair wavering only a little but that was all he needed. He moved forward, attaching his lips to my collarbone, making a slow ascension up until his lips met my jaw. He nipped the skin there then glided his tongue over the mark he'd made. His urgency slowed now and he took his time placing little kisses on my cheeks. He pulled back so that we were just an inch from touching and smiled my favorite crooked grin.

"I like your enthusiasm, love, but don't start something you can't finish." He touched his lips to mine as I began to protest. "Slow down, is all I'm saying, mm'kay? Trust me, I now you're capable and we will test just how so but, for now, just feel."

Just when I felt on the verge of uncomfortable, he released my throat and I very slowly inclined my head, both a stretch and a consent.

He pulled himself up to a sitting position, dragging me with him. His mouth was on mine in the same instant, lulling the tension in my shoulders to ease until I felt like I was being held up by jelly. He somehow managed to pull me into straddling his waist so that my core was lined up perfectly with his now very prominent bulge.

Good morning to you, too.

There was no taste even remotely similar to Edward's. It was bold and moist, sweet and distinctly pungent, like French cognac. I was getting dizzy, like, drunk dizzy; I couldn't breathe. His hands found their way into my hair, holding me to him as he pulled his lips from mine to rest his forehead against mine, his uneven breaths mingling with my own. I let my eyes close shut as I panted for air. His left hand left my hair to fall to my shoulder, descending down my back until he reached my waist, pulling me even closer so my back arched to him. The other hand disentangled itself from my hair as well.

"Open your eyes," he commanded huskily. I did immediately and just barely stifled a gasp as I saw the shade. They were bright, almost glowing emeralds yet a deep forest green swam with the lighter color. It was the most…interesting thing I'd ever seen. But his eyes not only caught my attention, but seemed to force me to continue looking into them. The intensity of them suggested that he could delve right into my thoughts, though I doubted he would find anything coherent.

In my inability to look away from him I'd failed to notice him reach behind his back or take hold of my left hand but I felt it when a slim, cold piece of metal encircled my fourth finger. It took all of the strength in my body to, but I pulled my eyes away from Edward down to my hand only to be absolutely blinded by the sheer beauty of the small piece of jewelry wrapped around my finger that fit almost as if it were meant for me. It was a single band princess cut with a lone emerald framed by eight white diamonds that literally screamed "posh" and "more than you can afford".

My head was shaking, a quick but almost unnoticeable movement. I didn't quite realize why until I looked up to see Edward gauging my reaction.

I was still shaking my head when he slid his fingers through my own and brought them to his lips.

"Marry me," he breathed. "I mean, it's not really like you have much of a choice but I'd have a better conscience if I did this as formally as possible."

"I can't accept this," I admitted audibly. My voice was quiet and every so often my gaze would flicker between Edward's greens and the green on my hand. "I already get the marriage gimmick. There's no need for this," I said wiggling my fingers in his. "Especially something so…so…How in the hell can you afford this?" I was so effective when it came to getting my point across that sometimes I surprised even myself.

"It was my mother's," he said quietly. "There's really no sense in me keeping it so you have it."

I shook my head a little more firmly now. If anything that made me want to give it back more. "I can't, Edward. No, not this. I'd be perfectly content with something from a pawn shop." I withdrew my fingers from his and began sliding the ring from my finger when Edward caught me, holding my hand fast to the point of physical pain.

He was in my face now, and his mission was no longer one of wooing but persuasion and aggression. His expression was one of anger and irritation.

"Let me be frank here, you will accept it because you are accepting it. No if's, ands, or buts. That ring is yours, we are married, and I love you more than I will ever be able to express."

My heart stopped in my chest and my breath caught in my throat. I sat wide-eyed and staring, my brain not quite comprehending until my realization came slamming into me full force.

You idiot, he wasn't saying that to you; he was playing the part of the in-love husband that would get you out of the states unharmed.

When my heart did finally pick back up it was near impossible to disguise my disappointment. Silly me, I actually thought, no, hoped that perhaps Edward was feeling what I felt. A comprehension that I'd only come to a few hours ago was now making me feel like shit. I was a mess.

"When are we leaving?" I heard myself ask. I couldn't meet his eye at the moment; I'd show too much.

"Not until nightfall. It's too light out; I can't risk you being seen or recognized. You still have a few hours to sleep if you want."

"No, I'm not tired," I mumbled rolling off of him. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and planted my feet firmly on the ground. My body switched on autopilot at that point. I shuffled to the bathroom leaving Edward in the room alone. As if I was all alone in my house, I pulled my nightdress over my head, tossing it down the hall as I stepped into the bathroom. I twisted the ring off of my finger and set it down on the counter, lightly stroking the solitaire gem in the center before turning away from it. I showered in scalding water again, numb and unfeeling, and brushed my teeth when I was finished. I wrapped myself in a towel, replaced the jewelry on my hand and went to the kitchen for something to eat, still unfeeling.

Within a few minutes there was a spoon of Captain Crunch in my mouth and a porcelain bowl in front of me as Edward sauntered in and planted himself on the kitchen island. My eyes narrowed slightly; I was never okay with anyone deciding to put their ass on my kitchen surfaces.

I couldn't decide why I was so upset. I knew he wouldn't reciprocate my feelings but I guess I was thrown for a loop hearing him declare something so…intimate to me right after I'd discovered my own feelings. Falsely. I needed a distraction, and the band on my finger was the only one I could come up with.

"Are you and your mother close?" I asked quietly.

Edward seemed taken aback with my sudden question but the expression was quickly replaced with apathy as he prepared his answer.

"No, I haven't seen her in about 20 or so years."

Didn't he say he was 27? If he hadn't seen his mother in that long… My mind was instantly comparing the numbers and I gasped when I got my outcome.

He chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, we were never close. To be honest, looking back, I'm surprised she stayed with me even that long. She never liked me, damn sure didn't love me, and basically abandoned me when she thought I was old enough to take care of myself." He shook his head with disgust and watched the ground beneath him, lost in his own thought. "No, we weren't close."

Well that certainly did the trick. I couldn't even focus on myself learning such disturbing information. How could a mother…? Of course there were mothers that just couldn't provide for their children and had no choice but to give them up but at the age of six or seven? I glanced at my left hand briefly then back to Edward.

"Were you rich as a kid?" I mean, how else could they afford the ring?

I started a bit when he suddenly barked out a laugh as a response. "We were dirt-poor Isabella," he said shaking his head, a smirk still on his lips. "Between my mother's incalculable debts and my aunt's drug problem we barely had enough money to buy covers to help us steal our dinners. No. No steady homes, no rooms adorned with toy trains, no coming home after school to my mother's open arms. Life was just as real then as it is now for me."

"That's awful," I heard myself say.

"Yeah, well." He ran a hand haphazardly through his hair and scratched his jaw without seeming to notice it.

"Where did she leave you? Why? What about your father-?"

"What about him?" he snapped. "Would you like to know where he was in all of this? Hmm? You want to know why he didn't stop my mother from leaving me?"

"I was just asking," I whispered defensively.

"Yeah? Well, piss off." He jumped down from the counter and simply walked out of the kitchen. "I'll be back," he called over his shoulder tersely before he disappeared.

I waited to hear the backdoor slam and leaned my head over the back of my chair when it did. I exhaled slowly, running my hands over my face and into my hair as I processed. Nothing in particular, just processing. I upset him, that much was obvious. His family must have been a touchy subject, and I honestly didn't want to be on his bad side in my current situation.

How in the hell did I even end up in such a fucked up situation?

No longer hungry, I dropped my spoon into my soggy cereal and went to put on clothes. I pulled open Tanya's luggage and fished out a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt. Nothing else was casual so I knew these would be my favorite pieces. After I was dressed I walked around for a while, not really sure what to do with myself. I walked in the guest room, remade the bed and straightened the pillows before going back to my own room to do the same. The sheets were blanketed in the distinct smell of Edward as I aired them out and it was very quickly bringing forth a headache.

I trudged into the bathroom and threw open the medicine cabinet as if I was following my old routine. Ativan, Aspirin, Celexa, Chlorthalidone, Ortho Tri Cyclen.

Why the hell was I taking that again? Not like I've been seeing any action lately.

I scowled and my gaze immediately fell to the small bottle of Celexa. I grabbed it roughly and flipped it over, skimming over the side effects.

"Sexual problems include low sex drive or inability to have an orgasm. . ."

I turned my head to the ceiling and exhaled heavily through clenched teeth. I swear I hadn't read the effects when my doctor prescribed it but now it seemed to have been glaring me in the face. For some reason I couldn't help but feel that this measly anti-depressant had something to do with me getting abducted in the Crystal Caverns. A low sex drive coupled with the inability to orgasm meant pointless sex which clearly lead to a six month dry spell which meant six long months to devote myself to work, which inadvertently made me more attracted to dead, fossilized animals than men. And, to keep the ball rolling, it was probably why I was suddenly resisting the urge to dry hump every inch of Edward's body, why I was so insatiable when it came to him.

I filled the cup in the corner of the sink with water, popped all the pills in at once, and drowned them back, just tasting the bitter quality of my meds. I wouldn't have thought of it if I hadn't come for it but I figured that maybe I would need my pills so I gathered them in my arms and brought them to the room, dumping them into the suitcase and fiddling with the zipper much more than called for. I rubbed my hands together and then ran my fingers through my hair. It was so much shorter than I was used to; it felt almost wrong.

I filled my cheeks with air then meandered into the kitchen, looking through the fridge for nothing in particular. Finding nothing, I turned away to my neglected bowl of cereal and decided to wash my dishes. When I was done I looked around quickly and stood on my toes for a few seconds before I realized what I was doing.

I was waiting for Edward to come back.

I grunted, then sighed. Damn, I was bored. I pulled up a stool to the kitchen island and sat, awaiting any sign of the back door opening. After 10 minutes I realized that I was just being ridiculous.

I did not need Edward here to keep myself entertained. I took a trip to my study, adjoined to the bedroom though this was a fact completely forgotten in his presence. My study was a small, quaint little place that provided me more love than I ever wanted from the opposite sex. There were floor-to-ceiling bookcases that served as my walls, 18 inches apart all around, The large bay window to the west wall served as my looking tower whenever I just wanted to peep into others' lives, bored with my own, and if I wasn't privy to peeping I was nose deep in one of my many collections of literature.

The case that held my trowel was in a corner of the room farthest from the door, secluded. I wasn't much in the mood to look at it - it was one of the reasons I was in this mess. I went behind the solid oak desk in the center of the room and pulled my laptop out from the drawer it sat in. I plopped down in the swivel chair, booted up the machine and waited. My fingers were moving without my mind so much as a step behind it. Next thing I knew, I was waiting in a video chat room for my guest to arrive, and just when Faithful Noodle caught up to Hands at the finish line Alice was peering into the web cam and screeching at me at the top of her lungs.

I mentally slapped myself.

"Hey, Alice."

She was babbling at high speeds and indescribable octaves so I held my hand up, signaling her to stop and told her to speak clearly.

"I said, how dare you hang up on me in the middle of an important conversation and then have the nerve to disconnect the line?" She said that? "Do you know how worried I was? And when are you getting another phone, Bees? Esme was squirrels on crack when I told her you called last night and she said she wanted to talk to you."

I shrugged. I didn't really have anything to say and I didn't know how to answer any of her questions. My shoulders sagged against the chair and I put my head back against the seat. My stress was finally taking a hike up in the farthest corners in my brain and out of my sight leaving me exhausted. Maybe I would go back to sleep.

But what if Edward came back and I didn't hear him? What if someone snuck in while Edward wasn't here and decided to off me in my sleep. No, I just wouldn't take the chance. I would wait until Edward came back. Unless… He wouldn't abandon me here alone, would he? I knew he was harsh and upset with me but would he leave me here for dead? Could I even push that past him?

I groaned and put my hands over my face, my body beginning to shake. I started crying, wailing was a better description though. I was tired and angry and I wanted Edward to put his arms around me or to just settle himself behind me and I wanted to stay right there with his warmth surrounding me, protecting me from any threat that came my way.

I completely forgot that Alice was paying witness to all of this but I couldn't bring myself to care yet. She panicked at first, then when receiving no feedback to her hurried questions she just tried soothing me through a computer, promising I would be alright. I calmed down after a while but still desperately wished Edward would hurry back so we could be out of the states.

"Oh, Bella," Alice sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

I shrugged again. "Tie me up and shove me in a little hole? Chances are I'd still love you afterward." Confession, much?

She giggled then sobered, again asking if I was okay. I couldn't answer her so I dodged the question.

"I'm leaving again tonight for sure this time. Are you sure Esme wasn't terribly mad at me for ditching?"

"She can't be mad at you when that's what you do for a living," she scoffed. "But no, she wasn't mad, just concerned, as am I."

"Do me a favor, Ali? Beg my crew for forgiveness in my name and tell them that I couldn't be more sorry for leaving them alone than I am right now. Especially Angela and Mike."

Alice shook her spiky little head. "Mike forgave you before you even left. But wait. Angela isn't with you?"

"Uh, no. You haven't seen her?"

"Actually right after you called yesterday Angela sent Esme a text and said she would be joining you in South America. Not that I'm a whiz in math or anything but she should be down there with you by now, shouldn't she?"

Wow, can you say suspicious or what?

"I guess," I stammered. I didn't actually know the distance and time from here to South America. It was just a cover up lie!

"Yeah, she didn't call or anything. Just up and left. She followed up with Rose a few days ago about some samples she found 10 kilometers into the cave though. After that she was gone. And come to think of it, I haven't heard from Rose in a while, either."

Something didn't smell right here. Not. At. All.

Author's Note: Oh snap! What is going on in the small town of Forks? Where did Rose disappear to? Did Angela go to South America? Will Edward get over his tantrum and go back to protecting Bella? Will Bella ever take that nap? Find out next time! Read and Review!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Closer to the Breaking Point

I couldn't think beyond where I was at that moment. I tried to focus on Alice before me but her words sounded more like babbling than anything else. She moved forward, putting her face closer to her camera and I noticed her mouth moving but it went no further than that. She waved her arms over her head, tapped on the camera itself and even flashed me but I didn't hear her, didn't understand her. All through this I'd felt like my brain was carving little niches and planting meaningless thoughts in each new hole until the thought sprouted up an grew into an internal rambling. There were several of these and each one made it more and more difficult to pay attention to what was going on around me.

I remembered asking Renee, my mother, for a dog then ranting and raving when she told me no. This made me nostalgic. I remembered sitting in the park with James on a rainy day, my hand running through his wet blonde ponytail and his hand in my lap. That made me sad. Then, my most recent memory, lying on top of Edward's chest as he ran his fingers up and down my spine, feeling his firm chest under my nails. This triggered other thoughts of Edward. Looking into his eyes for the first time, biting back obscenities I'd wanted to shout at him when he trapped me in the small hole, wanting to have Edward take me against the wall of his stone fireplace. I could have recalled every moment that I'd spent with Edward in that brief piece of time. There was enough space in my head to think of everything and anything. A faster way of getting to Paris without being seen, an easier approach to addressing the issue of Edward's parents, how I could fly out to South America after this whole mess was resolved to protect my alibi to Esme.

And then I remembered Alice was still trying to get my attention. I also, in that same second, remembered how she tried to get me laid in our Sophomore year of college by some muscle head with a steroid penis. This made me narrow my eyes.

She was still talking, waving her hands every so often but I could not hear her. My brow furrowed and I almost instantly felt an eruption of pain. I found that there was now too much space in my head, enough space to think over all of the shit I now had to deal with and the outcomes of which if Edward failed to protect me. Coincidentally, there were enough problems to create a figurative inch thick gash on my skull. Each ordeal lined itself up after the next and formed a neat soul train line from my left brow to the base of my neck leaving me writhing in pain. They pulsated, and like an angry blood vessel vigorously pumping the life source, staggering waves of pain flew at me from every direction, originating from the figurative line on my head and dispersing outward until I felt the pain all the way down in my toes.

I opened my mouth to scream but I didn't hear if it made a sound. Everything that touched me hurt. The clothes against my skin, the shoes on my feet, the chair under me. I threw my self onto the floor and once again tried to scream out in agony as more pain burst forth. In the center of my vision a black spot appeared and I was eternally grateful as it swallowed me up into unconsciousness. I was out of it, I knew that, but I wasn't far gone enough not to realize what was going on around me. My hands were trembling and I was still in agony but I heard Edward thunder through the house looking for me, heard him call out for me. I knew Alice was still on my laptop but I couldn't hear her yet.

My mouth was still open so I assumed I was still screaming but I couldn't be sure, maybe it was just stuck like that. Edward finally found my location and came flying through the door and down on his knees as he cradled me in his arms. The memories were flying a mile a minute in my head and it was extremely trying to focus on anything. Eventually though I heard Edward yelling at me, shouting my name and telling me to look at him. I heard my screams then but I didn't hear Alice so I assumed he shut the computer off.

When I was sure I heard his voice I immediately closed my mouth, cutting off mid scream. Edward put his face closer to mine and scrutinized me, his eyes tight with concern.

"Can you hear me now, Isabella?"

"Yes," I rasped. My voice was scratchy and hoarse suggesting that I'd eventually broke out in tears as well.

"Are you listening to me now?" he asked urgently.

I nodded and yelped when a stab of electricity flared in the base of my skull.

"Good. Now I need you to tell me what happened. What's wrong, Isabella?"

I was shaking now, not just my hands but every other limb in my body. What caused this flew at me at once and I felt like the biggest douche in the history of idiots.

I couldn't speak correctly but I hoped Edward could understand me anyway. "I-I took…all m-medicine…on t-t-the s-sink…and whole…" It was too hard to pronounce words. Talking was overrated. I let my eyes close and welcomed the black abyss before me but whimpered as it fell away with Edward's shaking my shoulder.

"Isabella! Stay with me, Bella! Come on, love. There you go. Can you hear me? Isabella! Can you hear me?"

I breathed a shudder and squinted through the pain. It was unbearable and I couldn't think of anything besides the pain ending. I welcomed sleep, a coma, death. Anything would be better than this. "Yes," I breathed.

"Good. Are you listening to me?"

"Yes."

"What did you take, Isabella? Which one did you take all of?"

"Celexa," I wheezed.

I blacked out before noticing but when I opened my eyes Edward was beneath me, my legs wrapped around his waist as he hauled me to the bathroom. He looked into the small trash bin and read through the drug facts.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Isabella? Isabella!" I was drifting again, gone one second and back again in the next. The headache was lulling me. When I peeled my eyes open he twisted me to his front. I was much too aware of my crotch lined up with his groin and that made me wonder if he would be opposed to having sex with me on the counter. Then I wondered if he preferred boxers or briefs.

"Can you hear me, Isabella?"

"Yes."

"You're listening to me?"

"Yes."

"How many pills were left in the bottle, Isabella? This is very important so I need you to answer me, okay?"

I thought back to coming into the bathroom after my breakfast and remembered pulling the bottle out but I couldn't quite grasp how many I'd taken.

My horniness was the sole factor in keeping me awake at the moment so I fed off of that energy.

"I'm not s-sure?" It sounded like a question.

"Isabella, I need you to really think about this, okay? Think as hard as you can or else I can't help you."

"It hurts, Edward," I sobbed.

"I know, love, but you have to think."

I closed my eyes and tried to do what he asked of me but fell asleep instead.

"Isabella?"

"Hmm?"

"How many?"

"I don't know!" He was clearly getting agitated with me and I couldn't blame him. I closed my eyes but squeezed them shut as I mentally counted each pill that left a bitter taste on my tongue. 1, 2, 3...4, 5...6, 7...7!

"Seven," I rasped.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I said definitely. "I'm sure."

"How much are you supposed to take?"

"Just one," I whispered guiltily. Why did I take the whole bottle again? It had something to do with Edward, I was sure.

"Shit, Bella. I don't know if I should take you to the hospital or not. They'll probably try to keep you for a day or so but we can't risk it." He ran the hand holding the empty medicine bottle through his hair and threw his head back, the tendons in his neck standing out. "Fuck!"

I lifted my arms from his shoulders, not without difficulty, and weaved my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. I scratched his scalp, very lightly and buried my nose in his collar, inhaling the scent of his skin. I loved the way he smelled. As I breathed him in I noticed my headache lessened somewhat. Not by a lot but I was perfectly fine with this subtle amount.

His arm around me tightened and he flicked his wrist to dispose of the bottle. The same hand reached up to hold my head against him as he buried his face in my hair. We stood like that for a while, I wasn't sure of the minutes that passed but I didn't care. I'd gotten what I wanted and this seemed to calm me. My hands still shook but not as bad as before.

Edward finally carried me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, gently laying me down on top of the sheets per my request. He settled in next to me but didn't touch me, laying on the farthest side of the bed.

"I'm hoping that you can just sleep it off. If not I'll take you to the emergency room in Paris. Sleep for now, Isabella, and we'll see how you are come nightfall."

I settled in but couldn't drift as easily as I had before.

I sighed and opened my eyes to see Edward staring down at me.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Can you, um, hold me? Please?"

He scooted closer to me until he wrapped his arms around me, firmly trapping me to his chest. I lay my hands against his warm skin and let my eyes close again, dozing off to the smell of blood and cologne.

x~X~x~X~x~X

I would be lying if I said I wasn't hoping for the headache to be gone when I awoke. It wasn't, but it also wasn't as terrible as it had been. Not at all. I curled my fingers against Edward's chest and ducked my head to press my ear against him. I listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady as he traced invisible circles on my hips with his fingertips. I lifted my eyes to his and gave him a tentative smile. He just stared down at me.

"Hi," I said meekly.

He didn't speak, just stared.

After a minute it felt extremely uncomfortable. I fidgeted, looking away and back again.

"Are you going to say anything?"

He raised his eyebrows then I felt his arms tighten a bit. "Are you okay now?"

"Better," I breathed. "But not healed. Another day's rest and I should be out of the woods."

"Almost right after you fell asleep you started making these god awful noises in the back of your throat. I thought you were crying or something but you were actually trying not to share your leftovers," he said wryly. "Are you nauseous at all?"

I shook my head, embarrassed.

"Merde! Isabella, if you ever do something as reckless as that again I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your head, do you understand me?"

I nodded, repentant beyond words at this point. I wormed my way further into his embrace, my nose skimming along his collar and I inhaled. He smelled so good.

"I'm sorry."

He grunted. "I'm still curious as to the reason for such indiscretion with pill popping but, since you're alright, we have priorities to deal with first."

I nodded and was hit with an unnerving wave of vertigo as both Edward and the room whirled in a haphazard circle. I trapped my lip between my teeth and squeezed my eyes closed to get my bearings. After a minute I opened them again and was met with Edward's disapproving glare. I shrugged and he exhaled through his nose.

"Get up. We have to leave within 20 minutes or risk being found. You're dressed so I don't think I have to help with that. I'm going to pull up the Jeep. Listen, Isabella, because this is important. I am going to honk the horn twice, the first when I park and the following 40 seconds after. When I beep the horn, you are to take that shotgun in the living room and break all of the lights in this house, do you understand? You have ten seconds to get to every bulb. When I signal you the second time, throw open all of the doors, all of them. Bathroom, bedroom, guest room, all of them, including the back door. The second the last door swings open on it's hinges I want you to run as fast as you can to get to the Jeep and we will head straight to the airport. No mistakes, love; this is of the utmost importance. Are you sure you've got it?"

I nodded vigorously and he kissed me quickly before rolling off of the bed. "You have approximately three minutes to take care of any needs before I return. After that anything that needs to be done will have to wait till Paris." He moved over to the side of the bed to pick up my luggage and went to stand at the door. "I know you're probably dizzy and walking will be a little difficult but you have to move past that, Bella. Please. You have three minutes."

I waited until I heard the back door shut quietly before rolling onto the balls of my feet, rocking only slightly, and race-walked into the main room, retrieving the sawed off shotgun from behind the couch. Maybe Tanya left this here on purpose, knowing we would need it. But hopefully not for violence.

I brought the weapon with me into the bathroom and relieved myself, taking a second to splash my face with water when I finished. It was hell trying to figure which way was up or down but I saw through the disorientation. I combed my fingers through my now messy hair and slapped my cheeks like Tanya instructed to add some color. I had about thirty seconds left before Edward would blow the horn. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place deciding if I should go to the study or not but going ruled out over not and I was dashing down the hall before I could stop myself. I pushed open the door to the study and unplugged the laptop's cord from the socket, wrapping it into a ball and throwing the computer into it's travel bag before slinging it over my shoulder and clutching the shotgun closer to my chest.

3...2...1...

At the blare of the Jeep I ducked my head and bashed the butt of the gun into the light fixture above me. I was running before the pieces could rain down on me and battering the bedroom light next, jetting to the bathroom immediately after. I continued like this throughout the house. Breaking the lights and running to the next until the house was pitch black and all of the doors wide open. I had a few seconds to spare so I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a pen from it's cup and scribbled as eligibly as possible on to the post-it on the counter. Hearing the second horn, I snatched the small paper, sprinted through the front door and slapped the adhesive paper on one of the front windows for Lauren to see before jumping into the passenger seat of the already moving Jeep.

x~X~x~X~x~X

The airport was packed. The grand clock over the luggage check indicated that it was 10 to one and yet the bustle about us seemed to say the opposite. I could barely hear my own thoughts over the noise but, again, I wasn't thinking anything coherent anyway. I leaned back in my seat and fiddled with the lens of my sunglasses to keep myself awake. Edward's left hand was wrapped around my right and his foot was playing with my own. Had I been a notch above insane his touch would have sent me into oblivion.

I brought our hands to the arm rest between us and splayed his fingers out on the cold metal. I traced the almost unperceivable scar along his thumb and brushed my nails against the exposed side of his knuckle. I looked up from my task to see his expression soften though only a little. He hadn't moved from his rigid posture in over 20 minutes and watching him sit stalk still made me tired. When his gaze caught mine I wove our fingers together again and leaned my head against his shoulder, lightly touching my lips to the pulsing artery in his neck.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't absolutely reaping the benefits of being Edward's wife. It had been less than 24 hours and I felt like I was getting the real experience. We'd fought, we laughed, we distressed, we romanced, everything a normal couple would have gone through in at least three months. It may not have been as luxurious as I had pictured when I was younger but I was going to squeeze anything I could get out of this deal.

Naturally, Edward was acting as well. He pressed his lips to my forehead before turning his head do his mouth was at my ear.

"You're being watched, but not by murderers," he whispered.

I barely heard him over the fray around us but I scanned the area deftly from the corner of my eye regardless. I did see a few wandering eyes but none of them apprehensive. Then again, I didn't exactly know what an undercover assassin looked like anyway. I turned away from the outsiders and closed my eyes as I inhaled my husband's skin. He smelled good.

"Edward?" I called in a leveled voice.

"Hmm?"

"Why does your shirt smell like blood and cologne?"

His fingers tightened around mine, silently answering what I , of course, suspected. I couldn't quite conjure up a respectable response in my stupor so I stopped trying and dozed off on Edward's arm.

After he'd waken me up, Edward and I flew to a kiosk for some snacks, all of which would be mine.

"You aren't going to eat anything?" I asked around a mouth full of cake pastries.

He seemed bemused by my ravenous need for sweets, a smile curving one corner of his lip as he wiped white cream from my mouth. I loved that smile. I decided to dub that particular grin "Bella's smile" since he only did it in my presence. Or at least from what I knew of him, he didn't smile often.

"Empty calories," he explained. "I would much rather fill myself with protein than sugar." With that, he lifted his thumb to his mouth and swiped the Twinkie filling from his finger before giving me yet another dazzling smile, planting a kiss on my forehead and dragging me away from the kiosk.

We boarded our flight and I was shocked to shits in seeing we were boarding first class. We sat in the very back, near the coach doors, me by the window and Edward in the aisle seat. As the pilot announced our take-off I fastened my seat belt and leaned so I was now at Edward's ear.

"Excuse me, lover, but I'm rather curious about your income," I whispered, eyeing the approaching stewardess with champagne and salmon on carts. "Not only did you pay for my new passport and this beautiful rock on my hand, but I am now 25, 000 feet in the air sitting first class with a temperamental stranger. Clue me in just a little, will you?"

The stewardess locked eyes with Edward and you could plainly see her attraction for him them determination as she gave me a quick once-over before advancing in our direction.

I turned to Edward again, waiting. If he was going to answer me, now was the time. The determined blonde had just been about to say something when Edward's hand clamped down on the back of my neck and his lips were against mine. I made a noise of surprise that died swiftly into a wanton moan as he licked across my bottom lip. My hand reached out to hisd hair, holding him to me as my other hand busied itself pushing my seatbelt aside as I attempted crawling into his lap. Amused, as always it seemed, I felt Edward's lips curve beneath mine, the hand against my jaw moving to calm my struggles. He nipped at my lip, kissed his way across my cheek then trailed the tip of his tongue over my jaw and down my neck before biting the skin there.

"Say nothing," he whispered. "If you wish to ask me something, keep it brief and Romanian. Do you understand?"

My lust evaporated like a shot as I inclined my head once, a deft, almost unnoticeable movement. He kissed my neck once more in affirmation, righted himself in his seat with a grin and turned to the unmoving flight attendant with mock chagrin.

"Jane? Jane! Ah! It is you. What a wonderful coincidence. How are you?"

My eyes widened slightly at the foreign sound that was amiable Edward's tone. I had not known that friendliness was a milestone that he was aware of. Or even wielded. I turned from him, dispatching my hand from his hair to the careful expression of the small woman-child before us. Something about her appearance was off-putting. She was pretty, with the face structure of an angel with plump cheeks and vowed lips framed by golden-brown locks. But her eyes were beady and dark with a color of hazel that bordered a dark orange. She was short, a few inches off of my 5'4 with a slight figure. All together there was just an air about her that unnerved me, made me cringe further into Edward's arm.

"Anthony," she responded coolly. "I was not expecting to see you here. Or anywhere for that matter." She's Italian, I noted. Edward has very diverse relationships.

A tic worked itself in Edward's jaw before the look of apathy that I'd grown so accustomed to appeared.

"You know me," he said with a shrug. "I don't go down easy."

"Cum a face tu o stii?" I interjected with a smile. I guessed that the woman didn't understand me which explained his choice of language.

"Oh, that's right. How rude of me. Jane, this is my lovely wife Isabella," Edward said nodding to the blonde. To me, he said in Romanian, "I suppose at this point you deserve an explanation of sorts. When we get where we're going in Paris, I'll be happy to tell you all you want. For now…pray that I don't strangle the tiny shit in front of us before we touch down in New York."

He'd managed to maintain a smile of sorts so I did as well, directing it to the Jane. As she and Edward launched into a hushed conversation, I mentally stacked every question that I had for Edward into a neat pile to be distributed for him later. I wanted to know who Jane and Tanya were, his connections to them, why we were headed to Paris, how he knew Jacob and Sam Uley and most importantly what he was hiding from me. And I would find out soon.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Sweet Nothings

As we boarded our flight to Paris I couldn't help but request Edward and I sit more towards the front of the plane, where there were less people. Edward had stopped at a kiosk to pick up yet another thermos of coffee to accompany the first from the other airport before we continued our journey round the world. I simply glared at him, still peeved at him about earlier and he gave me a knowing smile. As we filed into our seats I remembered with startling clarity the bittersweet reunion of Edward and the little blonde he worked with.

Somewhere in the midst of their conversation, back on the plane from Forks to JFK airport, Jane and Edward's hushed exchange became heated and appeared more hostile than casual. After I had piled together all of my questions I warily took notice of how tense Edward was beside me as Jane prattled endlessly. I couldn't concentrate on her, much like I couldn't really concentrate on anything these days. She was speaking low and I could have been imagining this but I swear with every word that left her mouth her eyes seemed to widen minutely. Thanks to the overdose I couldn't make heads or tails of trivial things and I had a really hard time focusing. Even while I thought of things to ask Edward I was distracted by by an oddly shaped cloud that resembled a football. I watched it till it was out of sight, then began twisting my hair around my finger, wondering what I was doing before the cloud passed by, steadily ignoring the two beside me.

And then I became angry. Why was Jane still here? Didn't she have a job to do? I'm sure that there were plenty of other passengers who would have appreciated alcohol or salty seafood. Wouldn't the other flight attendants have noticed her idling? Unless they were all planning to make a move on my husband.

Speaking of which, I wonder why he's so tense.

Oh! That's right – Jane's still here.

I scratched my nails lightly over Edward's knuckles and leaned my weight against his shoulder in what I hoped was a calming gesture. It worked. He released his death grip on the arm rest and turned his palm upwards to twine our fingers, tossing me a lazy grin as well.

Jane, who missed the small exchange, continued to go on and on with no end in sight and had finally bounced on Edward's last ounce of patience.

"Where is he?" Edward asked none too nicely.

Taken aback by his sudden interjection, Jane said shakily, "Who?"

"Your father, you twit."

The small woman stuck her chin out indignantly and narrowed her eyes in something akin to a glare. "He is in St. Marques on," she stopped to flicker her gaze from him to me, "business."

Edward gave a non committed grunt and stroked his chin absentmindedly. Was her father his boss? He clearly had some importance otherwise he wouldn't have been brought up into the conversation.

"He's only in town for a few days, though," she continued with that annoying shrill. "If you want to catch him I suggest you make it a priority to see him in the next two days.

"Speaking of business, where did you meet your lovely wife, Edward? And what of Tanya?"

"Rome?" Edward replied in a voice that made the answer seem obvious. "And Tanya and I were never really serious. You know that."

"Does she speak English? Or Italian for that matter?"

"No."

"May I ask?"

"Go ahead," Edward said waving his hand in a dismissive manner. "Have a fucking field day!"

The little woman turned to me with her eyebrow raised.

"You don't speak any Italian?" She asked in English. I simply furrowed my brow, maintaining my smile. "Or English? How about French? No? Are you sure? Well, that's too bad. Oh, I like your shoes; where did you get them?"

I knew what she was doing. What a ridiculously random question. If I answered her with an intelligent response she would know I wasn't who I said I was. I wouldn't feed into that foolishness. Not to mention she couldn't even see my feet. She hadn't taken her eyes off of mine for a second.

I cocked my head and asked her if she preferred pancakes or waffles in Romanian.

As she could tell I obviously wasn't going to give her a legitimate answer she turned to Edward. "Are you sure she's from Rome or is she just incompetent. I visit Rome occasionally, as you know, and I've never seen a native woman quite so plain."

I flinched a little at her insult but thankfully she still wasn't facing me.

"You know what, Jane? How about you get the fuck out of my sight?" Edward snapped.

"What did I say?" Really?

"I don't know, you just insulted my wife to my face as well as in her presence? What the fuck do you think you said?"

"I was just stating a fact. No need to get so feisty."

"Get the fuck away from me," he hissed viciously. "Don't forget your place just because you're on the outside, sweetheart. Not wise when you have to go back sometime, as do I."

Jane cringed and put her chin down to her chest, wringing her hands. Whatever facade she had put on for me just a moment ago disappeared as she straightened her posture and put her feet together. "Yes, sir. Forgive my carelessness."

"We'll discuss this later. Turn back the way you came and don't let me see your face for the remainder of this flight. Tell your pretend friends to stay away from us as well and if I so much as see you glancing in this direction there will be hell to pay, do I make myself clear, Jane?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go," he commanded, flicking his wrist, and Jane turned to leave, tending to the other passengers before disappearing behind the cockpit. A few people turned in their seats or craned their necks to get a look at us, meaning Edward wasn't nearly as discreet as he'd hoped to be.

But the eavesdroppers were in the back of my mind. I stared open-mouthed in complete awe of the man beside me, unsure of what the hell just happened. How he got Jane to go silent and then leave without question eluded me.

"How—?"

"Wrong language," he said cutting me off."

"How the hell did you get her to am-scray?" I asked correcting myself.

"Simple. I told her to leave."

"No shit, Einstein," I said rolling my eyes. "I meant what you said to her. What was that supposed to mean?"

He sighed dramatically and propped his head on his hand, the fingers of his other hand holding the bridge of his nose. "Isabella, I really don't want to discuss this right now."

"Okay. I won't push you." Now.

A few minutes later I'd felt the effect of my continuous consumption of sweets. I was parched. Unaware of what was really inside of Edward's thermos, I took the cup from it's holder, brought the lid to my lips and took a healthy swig, sputtering and coughing as a familiar yet foreign burn coursed down my throat. I held the cup away at arms length and stared at it disbelievingly before tossing an evil eye in Edward's direction. At the sound of my distressing coughs he had opened his eyes and was now sporting a guilty expression. He smiled apologetically but too bad for him I was too beyond mortified to really disregard this.

"Edward Anthony..." I stated in a low, somber tone.

"Love, allow me to explain—"

"I really don't think there is anyway you can explain bringing—"

"But, honestly, there is a genuinely good reason—"

"For bringing Scotch on a plane in a coffee cup? Then, please, do explain this to me."

Disbelief. That was the perfect way to sum up my feelings at that moment. Was I angry that Edward smuggled liquor on the flight with him? No. But I was upset at the fact that he did this and didn't tell me about it. I wasn't particularly sure why this upset me, but it did. I hadn't even known he drunk! On top of that, I hadn't smelt it on him; not on his clothes or on his breath when he'd kissed me. Or maybe I was so far gone that I hadn't noticed. Either way, my little dizzy spell seemed to have past—good riddance!—and I was feeling extraordinarily aware.

"Love," he started, running his hand over the back of his neck and into his hair, "I don't know what to tell you. It's not as if you didn't know I was an 'alchy.'"

"I didn't!"

"Oh, come now. Yes, you did. I drink in front of you all of the time."

I was just about to object when I had a rather disturbing and abrupt remembrance. The mornings that I woke to a warm and calm Edward purged my thoughts. When he served me my breakfast of fruits and juice I'd somewhat take notice of how dark his cup of juice was. We'd drink from styrofoam so it wasn't as if I'd see him guzzling from a bottle. How the smell of his cup would bring a pungent scent to my nose returned with precise clarity and I registered how it was exactly like the liquid in my hand. After I finished my cup I was awake and ready to go; when Edward finished his, those jade eyes of his would become darker and began to swim inexplicably as well as his hands and mouth suddenly having the need to touch me. And then it all made some semblance of sense. The only way Edward found me attractive was when he was drinking. Alcohol made him horny and I was the nearest being with a vagina. It finally made sense. I always knew his attraction to me was some kind of fluke and damned if I was wrong now. It also explained Edward's random mood swings. I couldn't believe I was only just figuring this out.

It was almost impossible to ignore the pain that stabbed at my chest. I took a shuddering breath and simply glared at Edward playfully. Joking was the only way I knew to mask my true feelings. I was so used to doing this that it came second nature to me.

"So you're a drunk, huh?"

He nodded, unsure of my reaction.

"Well ain't that a bitch," I muttered shaking my head, hoping to disarm him a bit.

It worked. He stared at me for a moment before his face broke out into my favorite lazy grin and he nodded. I hated that grin now. I sighed, tossed back the thermos, and replaced it in it's holder. Edward wove his fingers through mine and I instantly noticed how his skin was warmer than was normal. I was such a fool for not realizing something like this earlier and now the evidence was blatantly mocking me.

"You know, I wasn't so desperate for a drink before this frail brunette came flying through my house," Edward mused, joining in the fun at my expense. "The second she started convulsing on my floor I knew I would have to take a step up from shots to Vodka."

He chuckled and I punched him in the shoulder with my free hand, hating how that beautiful sound made my heart wrench.

"Well excuse me if seizures don't tickle your fancy, Mr. Chloroform."

"Quite the contrary, actually, love. I was tied between cutting off your airways and settling betwixt your thighs to get you to settle down." I was blushing at the roots now. To add to my embarrassment Edward gave me a pointed look and started waggling his eyebrows like some old school criminal. I burst out laughing, having to hold my stomach and keel forward to avoid my abdomen cramping up on me. Edward joined in a moment later and at one point he snorted causing another round of hysteria before an older passenger a few seats ahead of me shushed us.

"Piss off, you scraggly old wanker."

That was the first time that I'd heard Edward speak in unadulterated British; not a hint of an accent but the real damn thing. I pressed my lips together, my eyes wide as saucers, and ducked my head in Edward's chest to giggle as quietly as I could possibly manage.

The old man huffed and turned around in his seat before throwing headphones over his ears.

Eventually my laughter subsided and I looked up to see Edward staring at me.

"What?" I asked self-consciously.

He shook his head. "Nothing. I've just never heard you laugh before."

"You have so."

"No," he said with absolute certainty. "I would have remembered something like that."

The look he was giving me made my stomach flop uncomfortably and I lowered my head to hide my red face. I curled my fingers into the fabric of Edward's shirt near his stomach and lightly brushed my little finger over the skin there, loving how the muscles rolled under my touch.

"I really do love your laugh, Bella."

I raised my chin so I could look him in the eye to determine if it was the Scotch talking. His eyes were lighter than I was used to, too soft a green to hold any alcohol. I gave him a slow smile and punched him weakly in the abdomen. "Shut up." I can't take anymore sweet nothings from you. Just, please, shut up.

The plan ride lasted about another 20 minutes before we exited and immediately boarded the next flight to the predetermined destination. I was exhausted in the true sense of the word and the second my ass hit the seat I curled up on Edward's arm and passed out for the duration of the trip.

I was still a little woozy as we jumped into the rental car. Edward made a point to get the fastest car on the lot and this made me nervous. I had planned to go back to sleep on the window when Edward said the three words that hit me like scalding coffee down a sports bra:

"We're being followed."My head shot up and I peeked behind my headrest to find the spies. "Two cars back, the mini van," he assisted.

I peered trough our followers' windshield and frowned. They didn't look like spies, but then again I wasn't really sure what spies looked like so I took Edward's word for it.

"Sit back," Edward said with authority. "Put your seat belt on and keep your feet on the ground."

I did as he said and when he saw that I obeyed his foot stomped down on the gas pedal and we flew down the highway. With every five miles that the speedometer gained my eyes widened a fraction until we were speeding at 97 mph. I shut my eyes tightly and clutched the seat beneath me until my cuticles hurt. The cop's daughter within me was weeping and chanting wildly as we sped up still and began weaving in and out of traffic. I figured Edward was trying to shake off our company but I'd never forgive him if he did so and got us killed.

After maybe 10 minutes we did slow. I opened my eyes fearfully and saw that we were now cruising through thick forestry. France had always seemed an eternally beautiful place to me, but who knew I could find beauty in dead trees? Brown bodies of bark raised 30 feet above our heads and stretched each of their dead branches up to the dark gray sky, like a mass prayer of nature begging for the sun to return to them, to re-gift them their livelihood. It was such a quiet and serene setting that it temporarily cleansed my jumbled mind. I sat for a few minutes, just watching the scenery fly by, finding some form of tranquility that I hadn't had in what felt like forever.

When that finally got boring I got fidgety, playing with my reflection on the foggy window and writing my name backwards until Edward told me to stop. I stuck my tongue out at him and he threatened that if I did it again he would find something better to do with it. Needless to say, I, in fact, did it again and thoroughly learned that Edward made good on his promises. Although he didn't get to do exactly what he wanted with my tongue he did hold it until I popped my jaw far out enough to bite him. Then I decided that I didn't really want to risk my life for something as stupid as flirting so I turned back to my window. Little did I know I'd been flirting with danger the second I laid eyes on the copper-haired man beside me.

xxXX~XXxx~xxXX~XXxx

After about another hour of dead trees I got agitated.

"Are we there yet?"

"Not to my knowledge, no," Edward remarked with wide eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Isabella, I'm sure."

"How about now?" I asked after a few minutes.

"Not yet, Bella?"

"Are we there now?"

And then he made a sharp turn. I slid in my seat a bit and Edward teased that my belt was too loose. I almost stuck my tongue out at him but thought better of the action. Instead I undid my seatbelt, just to spite him. He'd pulled into an imperceptible break in the trees, something that would have been unnoticeable if you hadn't been looking for it. We ventured through and the stretch went on for at least an additional 10 miles to our three. Edward made another abrupt sharp turn, causing me to slide in his direction, and drove for yet another three miles. The urge to ask him if we were there yet was strong but I bit my tongue to acquiescence myself. I tapped my nails on the dashboard, crossed, uncrossed, and folded my legs beneath me before finally I gave in to my baser instincts.

"Are we there yet?"

The car made a sudden stop and as I was just beginning to rearrange my legs I went flying into the windshield. My forehead went smack into the glass before I fell roughly back into my seat and my head rebounded off the cushion before settling again.

I sat still for maybe three minutes with my eyes closed, my hands balled at my sides as my head throbbed like an angry vein. Edward didn't make a move to disrupt my silence, smart boy. When I could finally get my eyes opened I turned a murderous glare on the smug smirking asshole beside me.

"A little heads up would have been FUCKING nice, Edward!"

He swung his head around to give me a lopsided grin and swiftly exited the vehicle.

"Maybe you should have kept on your seat belt, love."

"Fuck you, Edward!"

"Would you really, babe?"

xxXX~XXxx~xxXX~XXxx

We had to hike another two miles before coming up to Edward's shack. Why we didn't just drive, I had no idea.

"Why didn't we just drive here?" I voiced aloud.

"Because I don't want anyone to know exactly where we're going. They know the general location so let's not give them the exact spot, hmm?"

I turned away from him and looked to our temporary home for the next few days. I hated when he patroized me. On the upside, the house was gorgeous. A Vicorian style adobe of granite rock walls. It wasn't too big of a house; it looked more like a home for a small family. There were bay windows much like the ones of my own home and a verandah with stone columns that gave way to elegant french doors. When in France, I guess.

We climbed the few steps up the porch and Edward unlocked the door, ushered me in, and locked the door behind him, punching in numbers on the security system before turning to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. I raised a brow but otherwise ignored him, turning to the open room.

"Horny Brit bastard," I muttered under my breath.

"You love it."

I rolled my eyes. This room was a lot like Edward's stone harem back in Forks Crystal Cavern. The fire place, the mixed oriental rugs in front of those. But at the same time, the living area was also a lot like an industrial apartment, not so dissimilar from the first one I lived in while in college. The living room and kitchen were were all in one space, seperated by three marble topped counters that led to the stove and refridgerator. I didn't know if there was anything to eat here but I was ravenous.

I turned to Edward hopefully and his expression suggested he knew where my train of thought was heading. I followed him into the kitchen and sat at the table as instructed. Expecting him to present me with TV dinners or something, I couldn't help the look of absolute sorrow as he pulled out four fruits. My face fell into a pout and I crossed my arms over my chest as he sat across the table from me and pushed two blood oranges my way. As he dug in, I continued my fret like a petulant child and watched him eat, silently demanding real food. He returned my stare, peeling wedges of his second orange into eigths and laying them flat on the table.

"Are you hungry, cherie?"

I gave one stiff nod and went back to silence. Edward went back to eating. Apparently two was not enough to fill him as he made a face after devouring the last orange piece. The sun was now risingand I was unsure of what to do with myself. It seemed sort of vampire-ish but I felt an aversion to the sun; I was still to sensitive to it's light. I was also still hungry but I refused to consider oranges a meal. I was being bratty but I'd be damned if I didn't get my way.

Edward raised his brow at me and I raised one back in return. He shrugged, stood from the table and told me to follow him. We took a small tour of the house and he showed me exactly where everything was. The bathroom, the bedrooms, the basement. It was, in fact, a small house and there weren't too many places to go. My stomach growled loudly and to ignore the pain I told Edward I was going to bed. I'd taken only a few steps in the direction of the smaller bedroom that he'd shown me when Edward caught my wrist and wrenched it up to his chest.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I tried to break his grip but he only held me tighter.

"Edward, I'm tired. Can I please go to bed?"

"Hell no."

"Why not?" I asked flabbergasted.

Because I owe you an explanation and your not leaving my sight until you have it."

And those were the magic words. How the hell was I supposed to resist that?


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Clean Slate

He didn't wait for me to respond. Still holding my wrist, Edward pivoted on his heel and dragged me to towards the room that I assumed was his. I was increasingly unsure of having a conversation of this magnitude in his bedroom. Lord only knows how tempting it would be to forget words all together and scream out my feelings for him in the throes of passion. I pulled back on his grip, hoping that he would release me. But this was halfhearted. I wanted to be as close to him as possible, in as little a surrounding as possible.

H pulled me into the room and closed the door behind us. Just like the Stone Harem, the bed was the centerpiece. A beautiful, towering green-silk-draped bed dominated the area with a small bedside table made entirely of glass, arch-blown legs and a glass slab top, with a white lotus plant in it's corner. Marble floors, a luxurious sofa, and the single largest bathroom I'd ever seen.

"What...the hell...do you do for a living?" I was stunned. This room was about twice the size of the rest of the house by itself. I'd expect some big shot like Hugh Hefner to own this place but instead it was property of Edward Anthony.

"In due time, love."

He finally let me go, pressing his lips to the blue vein standing out on the inner side of my wrist before dropping it. He made a motion with his finger for me to follow. We went into the bathroom and the uneasiness I felt before spiked to uncontrollably. Again, there were too many lavish items in the room to pine for them all. The jacuzzi/bath, the see-through shower, the second bear clawed bathtub. Even the toilet looked expensive. I would bet money that it was one of those European toilets that squirted water up your bum so you didn't have to wipe. I shuddered involuntarily.

"If you think I'm about to get busy in your bathroom you have another thing coming, mister."

He snickered and covered his mouth with his hand to stifle it.

"Your one kinky bitch, Swan. The thought never crossed my mind, but now..." He trailed off to wink at me and I flipped him the bird.

When his man-giggles passed he told me to take off my shoes. I did, hesitantly, and watched as he did the same before stepping into the normal tub and pushing into a tile. He removed his hand and for what seemed like the tenth time today, I stared with my jaw agape. About 5 feet of tiles in length and width were pushed back then to the right, disappearing behind the walls visible to us, leaving a dark open space that led up an eerie flight of stairs.

"What the f—"

"Follow me."

He stepped over the edge of the porcelain bowl and into the dark and I was right behind him. I was moving blindly as I clung to Edward's shirt and, sensing this, he knocked my feet from beneath me and carried me up the steps. I was hardly able to protest. Behind us, I heard what sounded like a metallic click that unnerved me to no end. At the final step Edward told me to kick my foot out. I encountered something solid and the sound bounced off the walls and back to our ears. With no warning whatsoever, Edward threw his shoulder into the wall and a wave of sunlight hit us as we moved into the newly revealed room. All I could do was shake my head. What kind of world was this man dragging me into?

It would have been described as an attic but it seemed...prettier. Floor to ceiling windows that looked out to the forest behind the house, more floor to ceiling columns, more marble floors, and 8x10 pastel paintings adorned every square inch of wall. That's good, I thought idly. At least I was sure of his taste at this point. In decoration. Just above the window pane outside, a solar panel dock was visible. I wondered why I hadn't seen any light bulbs around. I was partly surprised that there wasn't a giant long table in the corner, but instead bean bags. Yeah. One green bag and one brown bag.

He set me down to my feet and went back to shut the door while I perused through the artistry. "I didn't know you were fond of art."

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

Isn't that the truth?

"I suppose this is where you'd prefer I conduct the interview, huh?"

"Have a seat."

I plopped down into the green bag closest to the wall. I was genuinely tired and at some point during this long conversation I was going to be sagging with fatigue and my best bet was to use anything within my reach as support.

As Edward got situated I watched the sun creep up past the breaking of trees and behind the mass of cumulus clouds. The sky was painted in array of light blues, soft yellows and dark pinks. The arising light flickered off the metal of the solar panels and they blinked like little white Christmas lights. I smiled a little and drew my knees up to wrap my arms around myself. Even in this secluded bubble in the middle of nowhere, France's beauty shined like a safe house in a cloudy harbor.

I turned my head back to ask if he was ready to begin but my breath caught in my throat as I made eye contact with Edward, his face but a mere inch from my own. Those jade pools of his were dark and devoid of all emotion and for some unforeseeable reason this saddened me. Before I could prevent whatever was happening from occurring he kissed me, his long fingers holding my face still as his mouth covered mine. He gave me a featherlight brush against my lips, followed by his tongue, just touching them lightly. I should have pushed him away, I knew that, but I opened my mouth anyway, like the damned fool that I was.

I wanted him, and a small, nagging part inside of me knew that I needed to have him if only for now. But, after I had him, what would change? Would he suddenly care more for me like I did for him or would his indifference border apathy towards me? It would be like taking two steps forward and five steps back, back to how I had found him. Could I risk that? Would I? All for a kiss that got carried away?

Then again I could be overseeing this. What harm could one kiss do? Especially from someone as gifted as Edward. We were both adults. If things escalated to a level we couldn't help it could be just as easily stopped there. I doubted that too much could transpire with bean bags between us so I sank back in my seat and let him kiss me, slowly, and, using his teeth now, he gave a tiny, erotic tug on my lower lip that made me utter a quiet moan.

He lifted his head, his eyes glittering like polished emeralds in the dim room. "You like that, Bella? You could always just kiss me back."

"Public not private, remember? You said this," I motioned to the small space between us, "wasn't a wise idea."

"No, it isn't," he said pressing his lips against the curve of my jaw. "But wise ideas are so very boring."

He kissed me harder this time, no longer just seduction. He was making demands now, demands I craved to meet.

His hand was on my jean-clad thigh, slowly moving up into dangerous territory, and his touch was like kerosene on flames, licking at me, taunting me. I put my hands down to stop him, but I couldn't get him to budge. All I was doing was pressing him against my thighs, which was hardly an improvement. His fingers clutched me then and my resolve was quickly crumbling. He's married, I chanted. He's married, he's married, he's married.

I pulled away to catch my breath, and Edward did the same, as I tried to rein in my fast-departing sanity.

"Why are you doing this?" I demanded in a whisper.

"Stupid question. Because I want to. Because I want you. And all you have to do is say 'no.' But you're not going to because you want this just as much as I do, no matter what you tell yourself. You want to taste my mouth. You want my hands on you. Don't you, Bella? Tell me that you do. Say it."

I wanted to deny it, to tell him how delusional he was, how conceited, mistaken, and arrogant, and wrong-headed...

"Kiss me back, Bella," he whispered. And I did. I latched my mouth onto his fiercely, hot tears rolling down my face as I took the collar of his shirt in my fists. I liked kissing him, loved it, even. But with Edward kissing was bordering orgasmic, and he didn't even have to move his hand any further up my leg because I was already so close to the breaking point. All he needed was his mouth—moving, touching, and tasting mine—deeper, harder—and I could feel a dark shiver run from my throat to my womb.

My hands went to his face and I roughly pushed him away, turning my head so that he couldn't see my expression, see the pain that was so deeply etched into my features. I hated this. Why did he have to use me so crassly? Why couldn't he just reciprocate my feelings so I didn't feel so damn guilty? Taking the bean bag with me, I scooted myself back with my hands until I was as far from him as possible.

"If you move any farther you'll be hanging out the window," he said calmly.

"I think that would be best for both parties."

He chuckled and the deep sound made me scowl.

"Well I don't recommend it. Not now anyway. Relax. I said I wouldn't touch you if you didn't want me to. All you have to do is say so."

"I don't want you to touch me," I deadpanned. It was an out-and-out lie. Or at least a lie of the flesh. My body sang for him but my mind knew that he was no good for me. At present, it was an all out internal war within me. I wanted him to kiss me again, I wanted to bash him upside the head. I wanted him to get away from me, and I wanted him to lay his naked skin on top of mine.

"If you say so, cherie."

"Why?" I asked abruptly, ready to get the ball rolling.

"Why what?"

"Why did you save me from Jacob. Prior to him showing up out of nowhere you made a point of constantly telling me that I wouldn't live long enough to leave the cave. He could have killed me right then and there. What made you change your mind?"

"I didn't," he stated coldly, expressionlessly.

A thrill ran up my spine and I shuddered involuntarily, immediately throwing my arms around myself. "Then why were you there? Did you just come to watch?"

He shrugged. "I was surprised you were still alive. Jacob's not one to drag out anyone's death. That you were still breathing baffled me."

"ASSHOLE!" My voice raised, and he moved so fast that he was a blur in the now bright room, his hand covering my mouth, silencing me as he held me against the wall.

"Lower your voice," he said. "Try not to be as stupid as your behavior suggests." He moved his hand and I stayed silent, seething, waiting for him to finish the explanation. He moved back, sitting several feet away from me again and I released a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"I came to speak to Jacob of another matter," he continued, "saw you were still alive, and on a whim, saved your life. To think you'd be a little more grateful."

"On a whim?" I inquired skeptically.

Again, he shrugged. "Part of my own death wish, I suppose. I'm living on borrowed time as it is, and rescuing you is just speeding up the process."

God, he was so cryptic. Always dancing around the real answers. But then something he'd said stuck with me. He went back to speak to Jacob? That doesn't sound right.

"If you were only returning to talk to Jake why did you try to kill him?" Was he lying? Why would he lie?

"As you saw, the mutt was already hostile as it was. How idiotic of me would I appear to just throw myself in the lion's den unarmed with bait hanging from my shoulders? No, ma petite. I had to disable him and get him in a position where not cooperating meant death."

"If I remember correctly, you blew out his kneecap and dropped a ceiling on his head. I don't know about you, but I think I'd be too far gone to talk about anything."

"You didn't let me finish. While he was unconscious I would have tied him to the bed post and waited for him to wake up. If he refused to answer my questions than I would have to revert to torturing him."

"Torture?"

"Hot blade to the skin, dismembering of fingers and limbs, breaking his bones. Things of that nature."

"Are there worse coworkers than you?" I doubted it.

"Actually, the very best at torture and interrogation are usually women, which is no surprise to me."

I could only stare at him, my jaw so far down that I was sure it was unhinged. "Who the fuck are you?"

"You no longer believe I'm a simple caveman from Forks? It took you long enough."

"Then who are you? Is Edward Anthony even your real name?"

"Well, I'm certainly no saint—that's for sure. And you don't need to know who I am. Suffice it to say I'm part of an international operation few people know exist, and it's better they don't. It's like the underground United Nations of trade. Sounds simple but believe me when I say your life is hanging by a thread on a balancing act and I am your ring master, so to speak. Just do as I say, and you might live to see another day."

"How do I know you can keep me safe?"

"You don't. There are no guarantees in this life. You certainly stand a better chance with me than on your own and if I fail, I can promise you, I'll be the one to kill you before you get in the hands of anyone worse than me. I'll make it fast and painless. I owe you that much."

He spoke so matter-of-factually about death and killing, and I had not the slightest doubt that he would do just as he said. All I had to do was take one look in his dark, emotionless eyes.

"Can you tell me one thing? Are you part of the good guys or the bad guys?" I'd asked him this before, of course, but at the time I was completely aloof of the situation. I knew better now, and I knew I needed answers. Where did Jacob fall and where did he?

"Trust me," he sighed wearily, "there's not much difference anymore. People die on either side and even those caught in the middle are executed mercilessly. You were almost one of those. I guess if I could help just one person, I can convince myself that I'm not all that much of a heathen." He smiled emptily and held his palm out, silently requesting. I slid my hand into his and he scooted closer to me but kept a foot of space away.

I was quickly learning that anything that Edward said always contained a double-meaning. Nothing was as it seemed with him. The first I noticed was his way of interrogating. In other words, for every minute of time he lost trying to get someone to speak, they'd lose something as well. I had firsthand knowledge of this, I thought wryly. The very first time Edward asked me a question and I hadn't answered him to his liking he began interrogating me. With our first kiss went my sanity. Thinking back to that dark chapter in my life I realized just how much of this Edward shone through in the man I once thought to be a robot, or, even worse, a caveman. Well, he did possess the qualities of both but he also had a beating heart. No matter how much he denied it I knew. I wouldn't be here now it that weren't the case.

"I don't know about you but I'm exhausted." I looked up from my lap to see Edward's head hanging lazily on his neck, his eyes slightly hooded as he looked up at me. Just to add to the sexiness, he dragged his tongue over his lower lip and smirked my favorite crooked grin. Such an asshole.

"Yeah, I could use some sleep now." I guess this was his way of concluding the interview for the day. I wouldn't push it. I was physically and mentally exhausted at this point, but this discussion was no where near over. I'd just have to ambush him at a more appropriate time. I used the wall to erect myself and Edward did some athletic move where he rolled on his back and jumped to his feet. I simply shook my head and replaced my hand in his as we walked back the way we came.

xxXX~XXxx~xxXX~XXxx

Before I slunk off to bed Edward forced me to eat something after hearing my stomach moan aloud. It was a terrifying sound and hearing something like that myself this time I didn't fight him about the oranges. As I ate, Edward promised that he would see me off to bed, providing ample entertainment by playing 21 questions with me. It was a simple, good-natured, game that I was truly enjoying before the British bastard had to go and ruin it.

"I'll have to leave you first thing in the morning."

I was just chewing into my orange when he said this and my teeth clamped down into the fruit, sending a circular seed shooting down my airways. I hacked and coughed, beating on my chest until I spit the pre-produce back up and glared at the man across from me.

"Where do you think you're going?" I demanded.

"I have business. Don't worry about it." And we're back to patronizing again.

"And just what do you expect me to do while you're gone?"

"I expect you to be sitting at this table or asleep when I return, lest I take you for dead."

"You can't be serious right now."

"On the contrary—"

"What is so important that you have to leave me here alone, Edward?"

"None of your goddamn business, that's what! You don't have to be here right now. Remember that."

"No, I don't have to be here, but I should be! It's your fault that I'm in this mess in the first place!"

He scrubbed his face with his hands and brought his fingers through his hair before leaning on the table with his head down. "Bella, love, please—"

"Don't Bella, me, Edward. You said you'd protect me! What use are you to me miles away? I could be gagged, bound and shot to death in the forest and you'd be none the wiser. Please just don't leave me here alone! Edward, please!"

He abruptly pushed off his chair, sending the furniture crashing into the floor as he came to my side and took my face in his hands pulling me to my feet until we were looking eye-to-eye. We stood like that for an immeasurable amount of time until he finally spoke.

"Isabella, you're going to be fine, I swear. Otherwise I wouldn't leave you here by yourself."

"How do I now that, Edward?" I whispered, biting back tears. "How will I know you're coming back for me?"

"Because I said I'm coming back for you. Are you calling me a liar?" The last part came out as a growl and the tears fell unbidden now, rolling onto his fingers.

"No, but I can't be here without you. Please, just take me with you!" Second by second my anxiety was spiking just a bit more than the last time and I felt a full on attack approaching. "I won't leave the car! I'll hide in the backseat under a blanket or something. I'll dress up as a man and moderate my voice! I'll even pretend to be your whore for the day, but please—!"

"Bella!" He shook my shoulders until I cut off mid sentence and broke into sobbing. I brought my hands to his shirt and curled the fabric in my fingers, hiding my face in his chest and mumbling unintelligibly. With a second's hesitation he wrapped his arms around me and rocked us back and forth until I calmed down a little.

"Don't leave me, Edward. Please don't go. Take me with you." I whispered this over and over, tiring myself out more and more till I could no longer stand on my own two feet. He picked me up and cradled me in his arms like a small child as he brought me to my room, laying me down on the bed. I was so tired but as I saw him reach for the door I broke into more hysterics.

"Shh, Bella, I was only closing the door. I won't leave you right now. I promise."

He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the door hook before coming back to my side of the bed. He told me to lay down and pulled my jeans off after removing his shoes. I didn't fight him as he removed my clothes, I just wanted to be near him. He left on my undershirt and panties so I wasn't uncomfortable and drew the blankets up over my shoulders before crawling into the bed next to me. He put his arms around me over the sheets and kissed my forehead before beginning a gentle hum in my ear that was lulling me to unconsciousness.

Just before blacking out I gripped his collar in my hands and threw my leg over his, trapping him.

"You won't leave me, Edward?" I breathed quietly.

"No, Bella, I'll stay for a while," he said just as softly.

"Promise?" I asked, just on the brink now.

"I promise. I'll come back for you. I won't leave you here, okay? Now get some sleep, love. You've had a long day."

I nodded lazily and let my eyes drift shut. "Mmkay." I drifted off to the familiar smell of Edward and prayed to sleep without dreams, silently weeping when my caveman's solid figure disappeared from my reach.

Author's Note: I'll be honest, this was my favorite chapter so far. Until next time, lovelies!


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** Consider this a late Memorial day gift :) it's just 11 on this side of the globe so my holiday is over. I don't _think _I'll be able to update as sporadically as I have been doing this weekend so enjoy this!

* * *

Chapter 13: Why Bother?

*~*E*~*

What the hell was I getting myself into?

I hated to be wrong about things, loathed misinterpretation. I'd been observing human nature for what felt like a lifetime, sussing out people for as long as I can remember, and my instincts were usually infallible. And now I was beginning to have second thoughts about Isabella Swan.

I absentmindedly ran a finger down the subtle curve of her spine and she sighed against my neck, pulling herself as close to me as possible with the coverlet between us.

Logic dictated that she was a dangerous operative sent to take me down once and for all. It would be absurd to consider any other possibility. She was either very, very good in this field or very, very bad. I just couldn't seem to figure out which. There was too much evidence stacked against her but at the same time not enough for me to make a solid decision. Something about her attitude towards this whole situation just unnerved me.

First of all, her complacency. I was unsure of any being that wouldn't fear for their life in a predicament such as this one. When I'd taken her as prisoner back in Washington she was anything but trouble. She fought somewhat but not enough for someone supposedly scared for their life. The second her little body went flying down the trap shaft I was suspicious and prepared to kill for answers. But she was stubborn. When I put her in the "cubby hole" as she seemed to call it, she barely resisted. Little did she know that the hole she was retained in was the passage to my ammunition. There was a switch right beside where her head was that pulled a flat rectangular slab of rock out of the way to reveal an entire room of firearms. This was a test. If she was clever enough to find the switch she would immediately be interrogated. If she never found it than I would have to move on to step two.

I gave her one week to take my bait and she failed which brought us to the river room for 10 minutes out of the day for yet another seven days. Being cooped up in a ball sized room for so long could drive someone insane or make them desperate _unless _they were trained for extreme measures. Seeing how Isabella withstood so passively did nothing to help her—my doubt rose just a level higher. Step two was giving her a small amount of freedom, or at least giving her the idea that I was. I would allow her five minutes to bathe and then I would take her back to the hole. When first introducing her to the rivers I made a point of telling her that there was no way to escape. This would make the captive _want _to search for another way out. If she was looking hard enough she would find the exit. On the western side of the river room, where the rivers' streams began, there was a crease in the wall that could easily be slid over, leading to a tunnel that would bring her directly to the outside if she continued on the path for approximately eight miles to a dump near Seattle. I sat at the curved wall leading into the room, just out of sight so I could watch her. Needless to say she never tried anything funny. She bathed and just after she finished I would step in and bring her to my den, angry that she did nothing that I expected.

The final test was one that I never got to see through thanks to that filthy scum, Jacob Black. I would allow her in my bedroom, where there were infinite possibilities. She had access to handguns in the second drawer of the armoire, knives of various different sizes beneath the bed, and enough escape routes to benefit the underground railroad. Killing me, attacking me, or even escaping was effortless and could be done quickly but she never tried, not once. After a few days, I left her to her chores alone. It wasn't trust; in my lifestyle you couldn't trust a four year old girl with pigtails. But I had things to do and babysitting was not one of them. I left her in the caverns alone through the south tunnel where I left her Jeep and I would run my usual errands. While Tanya, my legal wife, was in the area she helped me with a few inane side missions from Caius and we would pick up Isabella's food afterward.

Tanya was the closest thing to a friend that I'd ever had. She was a ruthless killer, a handsome negotiator and certainly a good lay to come home to after a tedious day of work. I'd never developed romantic feelings for her but it was necessary to marry her. Marcus, the withering bastard, demanded it, spouting some bull that it would help our cover in trying to take down Sam Uley. I had nothing personal against the man, but anything I could do to get closer to the head of the Volturi I would. In any case, I was stuck with Tanya for the long run, and only enjoyed the sex that came with it, which ceased to benefit me when she said those gruesome three words that changed my opinion of her entirely:

She loved me.

I had to sever all ties immediately. I didn't do love. Never did. It was a foreign sentiment that I'd never grew up around and refused to acknowledge even as an adult. I met an easy woman, fucked her like the whore she was and paid her for her services afterward. The only difference with Tanya was that we'd been shacking up, by the boss's orders, and instead of giving her money, I bought her designer clothes and handbags. I couldn't change my new opinion of her; she was a whore like all the others. She didn't love me, she loved the Benjamins I spent on her. In any case, after a year I got sick of her, told her to pack her shit and took the next flight to Italy to reassign my missions.

The Volturi was a lot like the modern day Mob. There was the head of the family, grunts, trackers, computer techs and everything else in between, as well as second in command if anything were to happen to the head honcho. That was me. The nameless drifter who killed first and asked questions second. Getting to where I was in this job took no effort at all. I was a heartless bastard with nothing to lose and had no qualms about death which made me an invaluable asset.

I killed men for a living, I tortured women for respect, and I wore Armani suits as a pick me up on off days. What could have possibly made me choose this disturbing way of life one would question? The death of my father.

That's a very bland explanation to the situation so I'll elaborate. Aro Castrogiovanni, the head and leader of the Volturi, murdered my father in cold blood.

To be quite honest, I could have given a shit that the rat bastard was dead. Good riddance, actually. What didn't sit right with me was the affect that his death had on my mother and, in turn, how that effected me.

Anthony Masen, second in command of the Volturi as I am today, was like a red-headed Jack the Ripper, specializing in assassinations, and staging "unexplainable deaths." He sniped, he poisoned, he set up car accidents that killed hundreds and he womanized. Rumor was that Anthony bedded Aro's wife, Sulpicia, and that she was carrying his child. Everyone knew it wasn't Aro's because he couldn't hoist the main sail, poor bastard. Foreseeing his superior's wrath, Anthony gave Sulpicia an herb under the guise that it would kill the unborn child when in actuality, it killed the mother as well. He fled Italy not an hour later and relocated in Washington where his womanizing ways set another of his seed into the world. He was killed but a few months after the kid was born. The only information on the kid I have is that their name is Al. It's abbreviated for something but the sex was disclosed to me.

My mother never loved me, never wanted anything to do with me and the only reason I was kept in her presence was because my sire wanted a child and Jean Masen would have done anything to keep her Anthony. That completely backfired on her the day Anthony left the scene, ran off to the States and got some American woman pregnant as well before being gunned down by Aro himself.

I always wondered why she hadn't simply strangled me or tossed me in a dumpster or a garbage can. She wouldn't have even needed to soil her hands by doing that much but could have left me to starve on that humid summer day in June twenty-seven years ago. Maybe she'd been momentarily sentimental. Or maybe it was that she was ill, so very, very ill to the point where they had to operate removing her uterus and ovaries, making sure that she'd never have to go through the indignity of pregnancy again. I knew my mother was terminally insane and that in removing her female parts she thought the God she believed in would spite her. If her life would be spared she would raise her child and be a good mother.

Well she'd fucked that up. Royally. Jean was a lousy mother. I was raised, if you can even call it that, by my heroine-addicted aunt and a series of maids and busboys while my mother traveled the world giving head and robbing corner stores for a living, until I'd finally taken off at the age of seven. How could a seven year old possibly survive on his own one would ask? Simple, he takes what he learned from his mother and applied it for himself. Eight more years of this and I was reunited with Jean in London, where I'd been for the majority of my time alone. The fucked up thing about that was that she had no idea who I was. I simply shrugged it off and kept it moving. I fucked her friend, a woman by the name of Maria and ran off to the States with her. She was twice my age with the body of a teenager and the heart of a...

Well she had a heart. We were travelers ourselves. We went to every state in the US and then back up to Europe and Asia. I left her in Morocco when I turned seventeen—just walked away one day while she was out shopping. I heard she died a few years later but by then I was well past any feelings of regret.

I was recruited in my early twenties, by Aro himself while finding my evening broad in Italy one day. A cold-blooded, heartless son of a bitch who knew exactly what someone like me was capable of if properly trained. And they'd damn sure seen to my training.

Politics, morals. They meant nothing to me. I was ostensibly working for the good side but as far as I could tell there wasn't much difference between the two. The body count on both sides was piled high, no one even noticed the innocent lives that got caught in between anymore, and for that matter, neither did I. But that didn't matter to me, nothing did besides revenge. Revenge on that short-dicked, bell-end arse that made me the apathetic cack-up I am today. Regrets are for puss's, I don't regret one damn thing I've done in my life. But that doesn't mean I can't hate the man that caused it all.

Just then Isabella mumbled something under her breath and arched her back into me. Having her fresh little body pressed against mine with so little between us made me hard, a welcome reaction since I knew I'd have to depart soon. There was a good chance I wouldn't make it back and if I were to die with only the feeling of Bella's ripe body beneath me to pass over with then so be it. At this point, I didn't give a damn what she was. A super-agent or a supreme court judge. The point was, without me, she was as good as dead, and, deep down, she knew this.

For some reason Isabella Swan piqued my curiosity. Made things a little more interesting. She was a feisty little thing who refused to be pacified simply because I said the word. She was stubborn, she was intelligent, and she was beautiful beyond words. A perfect match for someone like me but I couldn't imagine her in this lifestyle, another reason I doubted she was dangerous. I envisioned her living in a house with a white picket fence and kids and a husband with a pure-bred dog. Not on the run for the rest of her life with a man with a hit number mounted on his forehead.

I brought my hands around hers, loosening her grip on my collar and slid out of the bed silently, not wanting to disturb her lest I bring on another round of tears and hysteria. She whimpered, throwing a hand out to stop me and mumbling something again. I held her hand in my own, leaned down to kiss her plump lips for just a second, and placed her hand on the pillow.

"Your safe, I promise," I whispered in her ear and reclaimed my jacket from the door hook before returning to my own quarters. I showered in cold water and took a quick swig of smooth Pomace Brandy I kept in a flask at all times. I dressed in a white Armani suit, rolled up the cuffs and was out the front door in minutes. I set the alarm system to placate Isabella and went around the back of my flat to the hidden garage. If anyone wanted to get into the house, or at least anyone that I'd been working with, then disabling a security system was like stacking cups.

I flipped a switch, and the garage door opened revealing my beautiful Pagani Zonda C12 F. Or Clara for short. She was gorgeous and sleek and black and the only thing on this earth to have received love from me. She was a gift from a hit that I'd taken care of within a few hours of knowing the objective and seemingly the best thing to have ever happened to me.

No time to hump it though, I hopped into the front seat and peeled out and off of the property, zooming through the forestry to pay the head honcho himself a surprise visit.

xxXX~XXxx~xxXXxx

I stopped at a cafe and ordered a whiskey and a soda. The rain in this remote city was unbearable, coming down steadily, turning to snow, and I sat at a booth near the window, looking out into the dismal streets, waiting.

The man who sat down opposite me looked like a happy old gent, his smile creasing his papery, translucent skin as he watched me. If you looked hard enough you could see the blood flowing in his greenish veins. This ruthless, stuffy, automaton ran the Volturi like a well oiled machine and I wanted nothing more than to wring his pallid, skinny neck.

Aro shrugged out of his wet raincoat, put his newspaper on the table, and ordered a cup of coffee before finally addressing me.

"Edward, my boy!" He opened his arms and stepped forward, catching me in a quick embrace. To watching eyes it was a friendly hug, to anyone in the know it was known as frisking. Too bad for Aro I concealed my weapons on a garter. We reclaimed our seats and for a long minute, Aro just watched me with scrutinizing eyes.

"What have you done, Edward?" he asked cheerily, keeping up appearances.

My order finally arrived and I took a hearty gulp of the whiskey as Castrogiovanni put cream and sugar in his drink. I removed a carton of cigarettes from my breast pocket and lit one up swiftly, taking a long pull and waiting.

"So what happened in Forks?"

That was another thing about Castrogiovanni that I hated—the man wouldn't say shit if his mouth was full of it. "Things got fucked up. What can I say?" I stubbed out the cigarette. I'd lost taste for them after a while, another annoyance.

"You can tell me what happened to the girl. Who was she?"

"Girl?"

"Don't play me, Anthony Masen." I grinned and took another sip of my drink. I could always tell when I was hitting the boss's nerve—whenever he stopped smiling. "You weren't the only operative around Forks Base this past Tuesday. The little American archaeologist—who was she working for?"

I shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I'm thinking she might be on the baron's payroll, though she seemed to be there for recreational purposes."

Aro wrinkled his nose and sipped his coffee before rubbing his hands together. "I don't like this. She is a liability, Edward. She needs to be taken out of the equation permanently."

"I did my best boss," I drawled, knowing Aro hated being called 'boss.' "I couldn't get her to admit anything."

Aro watched me for a long moment. "If you couldn't get anything out of her then I doubt there was anything to find out. If I can say one thing about you, it's that your the best interrogator we've got. Better than anyone on the other side, including the late Jacob Black.

"Oh, well. He was as good as dead in any case. So what happened to our old friend Jacob, and what of the girl?"

"Dead," I deadpanned, lighting another cigarette—even Gitanes were tasteless but they gave me something to do.

"You killed them both?"

"Just Jacob. He'd already done the girl."

"What happened to the body?"

"There wasn't much left of her by the time Black was through with her."

"I see." Aro took a sip of his coffee. The man didn't smoke, didn't drink, didn't fuck, as far as I could tell. He was a machine, nothing more. Much like he'd trained me to be. "A little premature," he continued, "but it should be salvageable so long as there are no loose ends. Jacob was disposable but Edward Anthony Masen is not!" He laughed and clapped his hand over mine.

I glanced at it briefly and looked back out the window, wondering if Isabella had awoken yet. It had been a decent five hours since I'd left, most of that time being spent riding around the country side, making sure I wasn't followed. After this morning's episode, I was half expecting her to be throwing a fit, crying and talking herself to death. She did that often, I thought wryly. She was always muttering under her breath, as if thinking aloud, and more times than not I paid audience to her quiet rambling. It was cute for a grown woman.

"The others will becoming to Paris to finish the discussions, and the dilatory Christos will be joining them. You'll be joining them as well."

At Christos' name my attention was once again pulled back. Jimmy Christos was key to my vengeance on Aro. With the trade business's top dog taken down, no one stood in the way of Aro taking over completely. When that happened every sector of the Community would be ready and willing to put a bullet through his skull but none of them could even dream of getting as close to him as I could. As second in command I could simply pull Aro aside, get him in a private place, and remove his entrails from his body. No one suspect me of the crime and no would care.

I had multiple fantasies of ending Aro's life. The first, slow and torturous, scalping him and cutting individual pieces of his brain out until he could only see, hear and feel, where I could brutally break every one of his bones and ligaments. The second, skinning him. Carve small bits and pieces out of his body until he was nothing more than muscle and tissue. The last, and my favorite so far, was removing his testicles and violating him with them, showing him what he couldn't do to his wife that my father had. When he was de-manned I would carve and burn his skin off with a hot blade, put metal stakes throughout his body and hoist him on the wall where I could use knives as darts, the target his heart though I would miss on purpose every time.

The thought of revenge was almost enough to make me want to smile. Almost.

"You don't think they'll be suspicious? Wonder why I killed Jacob?"

"They know you and they know Black. You're rivals. What would they expect? All that matters is they cement arrangements, divide up the territory and choose a new leader. They might have chosen Black to secure the place but with him out of the picture I'm guessing that we have a clear shot at him. And then you're going to step in."

This time I did smile.

"They might be willing to overlook Jacob's death but Christos has a great many more people in his organization. There are bound to be repercussions."

"Then you will die."

I didn't bat a lash. "Will I?"

It's very simple—you've done this sort f thing before, and if you hadn't I wouldn't put anything past you. Once they choose Christos you'll make a fuss, put a bullet in his head, and someone we'll already have planted will shoot you. You'll be wearing a dummy blood patch, and once you hear the gun shot you'll drop like a stone. Which means you'll only have one shot at Christos—make it count."

"I've never had any trouble hitting a target," I said absently, already finding holes in this wankers ridiculous plot.

"No, you haven't. So Edward Anthony will be dead and if I'm feeling particularly generous I might have you take a little vacation in the south of France until your next mission. There's a time for everything."

I lit another cigarette that I didn't want, needing something to hold so I didn't spontaneously shoot this asshat.

"And the arms cartel?"

"The next obvious choice is the baron and he'll be easy enough to control." In other words, I would be sent to kill him. Too bad. I rather enjoyed fucking his wife in front of him. "Someone's got to supply the arms to the I.T.'s, and by watching the cartels, we can trace the various splinter groups, tap into their plans."

"I delivered detonators to Syria last April. Sixty-three people were killed, including thirteen children." I kept my voice perfectly neutral but I knew Aro wasn't fooled. I loathed to have innocent civilians caught in the middle.

"Don't tell me your still sulking about that, my boy! The fortunes of war, I assure you. Casualties to the fight against terror. You never used to be so sentimental, Edward. You know the math as well as I do. Eighty dead, with the potential of thousands being saved. Sometimes you have to make the ugly choice."

"Yes," I said, watching the smoke of my cigarette curl.

"I trust you, Edward. I know you'd never make the mistake of lying to me. If you say the girl is dead she certainly must be. Besides, what reason have you to lie? In all the years I've known you I've never seen you show any human emotion, any weakness. Your a machine. State-of-the-art, finely tuned, indispensable."

"Even a machine needs rest. Let someone else do the job, and I'll just disappear. Jasper has already built up a solid cover—he can take care of Christos himself."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired."

"People in our line of work aren't allowed to get tired. They seldom get time off, they don't get to rest. There's only one way to retire, Edward Anthony. The way Jacob did."

"Is that a threat," I asked lazily, stubbing out my cigarette.

"No. Only a fact. The cartel will be meeting at Chateau Twilight tomorrow, with Christos arriving the day after. I leave it up to you. I have every confidence you'll do what needs to be done."

"Do you?"

"Don't annoy me, Masen. You know how much is riding on this." Aro rose, folding his newspaper neatly and tucking it under his arm.

"The fate of the free world?" Your upcoming and much awaited death? "Isn't it always?" I didn't bother getting up. "I think I've heard this all before. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few and all that shit. I know what's at stake."

"See that you don't forget."

I watched Aro's retreating form, a fresh wave of indifference washing over the older layer. I knew my time was running out, and I simply didn't care one way or another. My luck ran far longer than I would have expected but it wasn't going to last much longer. I'd be dead before Aro could make his first order. But before they took me I will have already taken Aro out of the picture, leaving the Community and the Volturi in a mass disarray.

XxqxxQXXQxxqxx

I knew she was gone, of course. I'd known before I rode up to the property, but I checked anyway, just to be certain. The room was dark and she'd left a window open. Icy air was blowing in, laced with bits of snow, collecting into an unattractive pile on the floor.

There was no sign of forced entry, no blood, and the rental car was gone. Her clothes were left behind but my worn leather jacket was missing, and someone had gone through my wardrobe. If they'd come to get her, they wouldn't have bothered dressing her—she'd be lying dead in my bed if they found her.

Which meant she left of her own accord and she was no longer my responsibility. I warned her and for some crazy, quixotic reason I saved her life. Even compromised my own cover for her, whether I cared to admit it or not. And she'd ignored my orders and disappeared.

Good riddance.

* * *

**Author's Note:** What kind of fucked up cliffie is this, Punkii? Haha, I swear my intentions are good! Happy Holidays and 'till next time


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: Hey guys! It's been a while. Let's get down to business first—to the new readers, welcome! Second—I have to say I was surprised with the last chapter's response. A lot of you guys question Edward's feelings. All I'm gonna say is read between the lines ;). Now that that's out of the way, enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 14: Revelations and Implications

_I have to get out of here._

_I can't do this._

_I _won't _do this._

_I have to leave._

_Soon._

I was asleep. I knew I was, but I was also conscious. I felt Edward's warmth beneath me, his long legs twined with mine, the chords of muscle in his arms and torso surrounding me. Subliminally, this was my way of making sure I was safe, of being sure he wouldn't leave me. But I was simultaneously dreaming. I knew this because Alice and Rosalie were here, sipping coffee with me, twin expressions of expectancy on their faces. I gave them an anxious look and sighed, tightening my grip on Edward.

"Bella," they regarded me over their mugs.

"Hi," I said weakly, pushing my hair behind my ears and keeping my eyes down.

"It's been a while."

"I miss you, Ro." I held my hand out and she took it gladly, giving it a quick squeeze before returning to her drink.

"So what's new? I see you have a new friend. I like the company you keep," she said with a wink.

I laughed and shook my head. "It's much more complicated than it looks, I can assure you."

"What's so complicated about running away with an exotic stranger?" Alice giggled.

"What isn't?"

"Oh, leave the girl alone, Al. We should be proud of Bella. She's finally getting laid!"

At that they both fell out. Rosalie threw her hands in the air and gave a not-so-ladylike guffaw and Alice fell out of her chair, clutching her stomach and rolling on the white carpet like an agitated dog.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glowered. "You guys suck."

"Lighten up, Swan. You're not supposed to be such a grump after getting plowed."

"For your information, Rose, no one was getting _plowed _as you so crassly put it. I actually doubt he's even attracted to me."

"Bitch, you're blind," Alice scoffed, climbing into her chair.

"Pardon?" I raised an eyebrow at her and scowled, a look that said "keep that up and I'll put you back on the floor."

She waved me off. "You're a smart girl, Bella. And your sight is 20/20, so making such a ridiculous statement just means that you're purposely ignoring your feelings."

Rose nodded vehemently.

"Can you blame me? Guys, my life is literally hanging on a loose thread. Honestly, I'm scared shitless. I _need _ Edward if I want to to make it to see another day—another minute!—and a show of feelings will only complicate things. Telling him how I feel is dangerous, enjoying his touch is dangerous, even the frequent kissing between us is dangerous!"

"Why do you think that?"

"Think about it, Rose. The main reason Edward is protecting me, and I'm sure of this, is to gain some kind of intelligence and—"

"Intelligence?"

"He thinks I'm some type of super spy or something," I admitted shaking my head.

They looked at me for a moment like I'd grown a third head, then at each other before falling out again. We weren't getting anywhere like this.

"Guys! Holy shit, I'm going to spill your coffees down the drain if you can't focus!"

"That's ridiculous, Bella," Alice admonished as she sobered up.

"Yeah, well." I shrugged. "It's true."

"How do you _know _it's true?" Rosalie asked with a raised brow.

I scrubbed my hands over my face and sighed, something I picked up from Edward. "Look, I'm not 100% _positive _about it but I have a really good hunch. It's just—he's so damn cryptic I'd be lucky to guess what his shoe size is!"

"How big _are _his shoes? You know what they say about big feet."

Rose literally did a spit take, just missing me as she shot her drink past me and on the floor.

"Alice! Please!"

"What! You do know, don't you?"

"What does that have to do with _anything_?"

"You brought it up, Bella. Don't get mad at me because I commented on it!"

"That's it!" I pushed back on the table, sending the chair backwards and storming to their side, taking their mugs, and dumping them into the ficus plant in the corner of the room. Huh, this looks like my house. I returned to my seat and folded my hands in front of me, looking at the disbelief etched into both of their expressions.

"I was drinking that, you know!"

"No, you were spitting it out."

"Well _I _was drink—"

"Well you shouldn't be drinking anything caffeinated, pixie!"

We all sat silently, glaring at one another though most of the aggression was aimed in my direction. Sitting so close to Alice I could could recognize how similar her eyes were to Edward's, the only difference being that Alice's green was a beautiful jade with gray flecks, from Esme. Esme had big, striking gray eyes that saw right through you. I missed Esme.

_Off track, Swan._

"Anyway, like I was saying, so long as Edward believes that I have something to offer I know he'll try to keep me alive, and, let's face it, if we were to sleep together I'd have no secrets."

They snickered and I threw them both dirty looks. Back in college, when we three were never more than a few yards away from one another, we all learned some interesting information about me. Apparently I was very loud during sex, what Rose calls a "screamer." Mind you, this is something that I didn't find out about this until they caught me after a keg party. Tyler was my companion of the day and I was feeling particularly wanton. I brought him to our apartment, got busy, and was thoroughly embarrassed when Alice handed me a tape recorder labeled "Bella's Opera." Point, blank, I say a lot of things that I would have no recollection of in the near future during sex.

"True," Alice said, drawing out the word, "but isn't repressing something like that just as dangerous?"

"I don't understand."

"Well, from the looks of it, your brains all wrapped up around him and I can only guess that he's the same way about you. If you think about it, don't you think all of this sexual tension is even a little distracting? Just a little? And if this is a life or death situation, distractions can cost you your life, right?"

"Oh, my God," I breathed. Rose was just as shell shocked as I was. She was right. Alice was absolutely right. I was holding out on Edward to save my own hide but what I was doing would also effect Edward negatively.

I was a distraction.

As if Alice could hear my thoughts she reached her hand out to cover mine with a frown. "Sweetie, are you sure you understand what I'm saying? 'Cause if I know you, I know you're finding some way to take what I said and twist it against yourself.

"No, Al; I get it, I do. Thank you." I stood and pulled her up to her feet as well, catching her in a death grip of a hug. Distance. I needed distance to survive.

"Am I missing something here?" Rose asked, her voice going up an octave.

"Alice can explain it to you herself, Ro," I said, reclaiming my seat. I slunk down in my chair and sighed, planning.

"Wow, Bells, you look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders."

"It can't really be _on_ my shoulders if I'm traveling _around _it, right?"

Rosalie shook her head as Alice tittered like a fool.

"You know, now that I really think about it, Alice, I wouldn't be in this predicament if it wasn't for you." I was pointing fingers now but, hey, at this point what difference would it make?

"And why is that?" she demanded, outraged. Her expression was priceless.

"I wouldn't have met Edward if I didn't go so far into the cave, and I wouldn't have gone so far into the cave if a certain shorty didn't beg me to get pictures."

"I meant mental pictures!"

"Eh-eh! Don't even try to cover your ass with that one!"

_It was barely noon and I was ready to go on my lunch, anything to get out of this stuffy, suffocating office. I sipped on a bottle of water and flipped through a Times magazine noncommittally, on the verge of falling asleep. It was another off day and I was stuck reviewing assignments with Esme. Jessica proposed a dig in Sierra Leonne, Eric in the Swiss Alps, Benjamin Egypt. God, what rookies, I thought bitterly. These were typical destinations. What wouldn't you find in Egypt, Eric? In any case, there were people hired exactly for this task but for some unforeseeable reason _I _had to do it. I know Esme's intentions are good but, really, I wasn't up for it today._

_Just as I was about to punch out for lunch Alice came bounding by my desk and plopping into the chair across from me with a light sheen of sweat on her forehead and a plea on her face. I sighed and tapped my _"Tips" _jar. I found that I was doing someone a favor every other day, so much so that I could probably make a second income from it. So I set up a tip jar and if someone wanted something done they were to drop a crisp ten dollar bill in my jar or keep it moving. _

"_Yes, Alice?" I inquired sweetly after she deposited her charge._

"_I need a favor, Bees."_

"_No shit?"_

"_Don't be a smart-ass," she admonished scornfully. "This is serious. You _are _attending the Forks Cavern excavation, right?"_

"_Of course, I am!"_

"_Good! Now, I know it goes against regulations and all but I need you to get in there and get a description of the place for me."_

"Hell _no," I deadpanned. "Go 'head and reach your pretty little hand back in that jar and take your money back—"_

"_Bella, _please_. If I don't have a believable sketch for Esme and the execs by the 5th they'll have my ass on a platter. Please, Bella, —"_

"_Alright!Okay! Fine, just shut up already!"_

_She squealed at a frequency only audible to small dogs and threw her arms around me, yanking me to my feet as she thanked me._

"_Yeah, whatever, shortie. Now let's go to lunch; your buying me some expensive paste or something."_

_She bounded off to the receptionist with a two-ton smile to sign us out while I lagged behind to get my coat. I just know this is going to be a bad idea but I can't put my finger on why..._

Rosalie gasped dramatically at the retelling of the story and turned an evil eye on Alice. "You sent her in there alone?"

"Well, yeah," Alice spluttered, "I wasn't going to ask Angela to do it for me. You know she can't do diddly-squat without writing it down on her clipboard and getting me reported-"

"So you send me?"

"I payed you for it!"

"Yeah, well I never actually got around to _using _your dirt money because I was abducted by a British caveman!"

"How was I supposed to know he'd be in there?"

"I can't believe you sent her in there alone."

"Rose, my job was on the line!"

"Al, my life _is _on the line!"

"Alright, shut up!" Rosalie pounded her fist on the table and Al and I both jumped from the suddenness of it. "You _and _you are at fault for this," she said pointing at us. "I've told you both I don't trust that place and you guys still wanted to do your own thing. Fine. Look at the outcome, now. Bella's gone missing and, you, Alice, are left explaining to your mother why you can't make a deadline!"

"You wanna know _why _I can't make a deadline, Rose? It's because those half-assed scouts of yours are worthless to us! You hired _the _most inaccurate, undependable, laziest scouts that I've ever had the displeasure of meeting!"

"You know, she's got a point," I said absently, jumping in before things got nasty. "When I checked the cave out myself it was kind of '_in your face_' how wrong your scouts were with their reports."

"What do you mean?" she asked taking her seat.

"I mean, it wasn't called Forks Crystal Cavern for nothing. The entire mouth of the cave was _covered _in crystals. Well, not crystals _per se _but with some liquid, glowing substance. Edward told me there was an entire river down there that gushed out onto the clearing leading into it. When your scouts came back they told us there was _nothing _of note. Doesn't that sound suspicious to you?"

Rosalie sat for a minute, digesting, before her face turned into a grimace. "Ugh, I _knew _there was something off with those assholes! It's not that I didn't notice they were jerk-offs, I did, but Esme's higher-up insisted we use those guys specifically. He said they were cheaper and got the job done when they didn't do shit."

"What was the exec's name?"

"Marcus Irutlov."

"That's one weird ass name," Alice blurted.

I cackled maniacally and doubled over in my seat. "No doubt, pixie."

And then I froze, my skin turning to ice and my eyes going wide, the breath leaving my lungs. "Rose? Where are you right now? Where's Angela? Alice said you disappeared. What happened to you?"

"What is that, French?"

"Rose? I'm not in South America so where are you?"

"It has to be Italian."

"Rose! Where is Angela?"

"Maybe Swiss?"

"ROSALIE!"

"Dunno, I never saw the guy before. He only does business with Esme over the phone."

Alice scoffed. "Well no wonder we're getting shit for workers, right, Bella? Bella?"

I didn't answer her. I _couldn't _answer her.

_Why couldn't I speak?_

Because Edward was leaving.

The arms that were around me mere seconds ago were slipping away from me, his warmth escaping my clutch. I groaned and whimpered, reaching out my hand to find purchase in his clothing, his skin, the silky strands of his hair, anything.

But he was gone.

Alice and Rosalie were dissipating before me, their familiar forms swirling and misting until they were gone, disappearing into the air. I wanted to stop them, to grab them both so they could never leave me, but I could not let go of Edward. I wouldn't.

_Stay with me, Edward, please stay, please don't go, don't leave me, take me with you, please..._

The sleep was too heavy to fight off. I couldn't win. Just as I lost contact with my Edward a cry fell from my mouth and the salty liquid building up behind my closed lids were ready to burst out of me. Just as they escaped, I felt his cool lips press against my forehead before he spoke. His words were garbled in my mind but his voice was music to me. He was promising me something. But, what exactly?

It was a few more minutes before the absence of his presence hit me. I flew up in bed and didn't stop moving until I'd searched the entire house. His bedroom, his bathroom, the hidden room upstairs. He was nowhere.

He was no longer here.

He's gone.

He's left me.

I'm alone.

I crumpled to the floor in a weeping mess, one hand flying to make a fist in my hair, the other clutching at my aching heart. I cried because I missed my friends, my sisters. I cried not knowing where Rose and Angela were. I cried for my safety, for Edward's safety. I cried for his departure.

And I cried because I would never see him again.

The second that thought was formed the tears ceased. I sniffed once and clambered to my feet slowly. I knew what I had to do and there would be no other way around it.

I had to leave Paris.

Now how was I going to go about this?

* * *

Author's Note: This was the companion to the last chapter. Next update will probably be tomorrow, maybe, no promises. Also, reviews are like discovering what Edward's _really _feeling about Bella's departure ;) Until next time, guys!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Escapes and Surprises

* * *

I got to my feet slowly, my entire body numb as I steeled my resolve for what was to come.

I was leaving.

Edward, Paris, this feud that seemed to lay all around me, all of it. I was going to get away from Edward Anthony, as far as I could without tripping up and getting myself killed. I moved without telling my body where to go, descending the dark flight of stairs back into the bathroom of Edward's room, throwing my shirt over my head and unbuttoning my jeans. I stepped out of the bathtub and went across to the shower, turning the water on and shivering under the scalding spray.

Turning my face up to the ceiling tiles, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, planning. It wouldn't be wise to simply leave Paris and head straight to Forks. No, that was too dangerous. I would have to call Charlie, fill him in on the situation, tell him everything, ask for protection. He was a cop, he had to have some kind of power to stop whatever was after me from this futile pursuing. I would tell him everything, from the moment I'd woken up that horrible day to now. I would tell him about Jacob, about Rose and Angela, about Sam and his crooked business...

But I wouldn't tell him about Edward.

No. We'd been through to much for me to betray him like that. I knew whatever it was he was involved in was illegal but I didn't care. What did that mean to me? I had nothing to do with it and I would keep it that way, I would keep to myself. After all, that was what he was protecting me from, wasn't it? From being involved. He knew I was oblivious to the situation and he was going to help me get my life back.

_Yeah, after two brutal weeks of confinement._

I winced involuntarily and the long, angry scar on my shoulder throbbed painfully. I slammed the knob of the shower in and the water abruptly stopped hitting my heated skin. I stood stalk still, my jaw clenched in effort to refrain from screaming.

_It wasn't his fault. He didn't know, only protecting himself, he didn't know._

I balled my hands into fists and threw them against the wall, a pained cry escaping me as I slid to the floor, small quakes erupting from my shoulders as I bawled out my frustration. Conflicted, too conflicted, I didn't know where I stood with Edward at this moment and this made me want to rip my hair out. Some small, dark, angry part of me wanted to hate that monster, to prosecute him the second my feet touched American soil, to make him pay for how he traumatized me.

But another part forgave him entirely, for everything. The hole, the cruelty, the seducing, the scars both physical and emotional. I didn't want to blame him, he'd been my safe harbor for what felt like years but had only been a little over three weeks. He was...my best friend...my companion...

_I can't be..._

In a second I was stumbling out of the shower and flying into his room, not bothering to towel off. I stepped into the walk in closet on the far wall and flipped the switch next to the door. I would rather have walked out stark naked than to wear his clothes but the less recognized I was, the safer I'd be. All his clothes were black. Of course, he was as dramatic as he was monstrous. It didn't help that all of his trousers were about two sizes too big for me. I threw on the too big jeans and sifted through the armoire behind the countless Armani suits, shaking my head as I did so. I was originally looking for a belt but then I remembered that you needed money to travel.

There was no money anywhere—I'd searched the place thoroughly. Though I did find a small cache of what was presumably nothing but cigarettes, all taken out of their packs and thrown together in an untouched corner of his dresser drawer. I contemplated taking one but thought better of it and closed the drawer, opening the top one where I found what could only be a credit card and the keys to the rental car. I inspected the thin black piece of plastic in my hand and grimaced as I read that it was under my name.

_Bella Marie Anthony._

I slipped it into my back pocket and randomly chose a shirt, snatching it from it's hangar and pulling it over my arms. I hurried out to the main room and cracked the window just beside the door. It was too cold to go without some kind of jacket. Other than his suit jackets, there was nothing to use but the leather jacket strewn over his bed. I grabbed his coat, the faint trace of his scent teasing me, so much so that I almost threw it down, preferring not to be wrapped in the smell and feel of him...

_I can't be..._

There was no time for dramatic gestures. Time was short and I wanted nothing more than to stand near the door and wait for his tall, graceful form to appear before me, for him to tease me with that perfect crooked grin. I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair, a frown creasing my face as my fingers ended there trail-through faster than they use to. I'd gotten use to the haircut but I still didn't like it. It would take a while to grow back. It would take a while for me to go back to how I was before all this mess, as well.

Having everything I needed, I wrung my hands, my frown deepening as I considered leaving my night clothes in Tanya's luggage. My obsessive need for tasteful lingerie won out over my better judgment and I found myself bustling into the rental car, arms full with lacy nightwear. I shoved it all into the backseat and went around the back, popping the trunk. I lifted my laptop carrier out of the trunk and on the hood. I pulled out the slim computer and waited for it to boot up, my leg bouncing nervously. I was half-expecting Edward to show up any minute now, his beautiful face livid. I pulled up a search engine and found a room for rent in an urban neighborhood of Marais. The rent was cheap, the location was remote and it was very near the Le Bourget airport. I entered the credit card information, confirmed the purchase and packed my laptop back into it's bag, jumping into the front seat. It took me a second to get used to driving on the right side but eventually I got the hand of it, constantly glancing out the "passenger" window for any sign of _him._

As the barren trees and dead greenery flew past me I wondered how Edward would react to seeing me gone. He had to at least take into consideration the fact that I could have left if I wanted to—and I did—but was he expecting it? What _did _he expect? It couldn't have been me standing in the main room with a phony smile plastered on my face, patiently waiting for him to give me the run around with snippets of information that was relatively important to my survival. No. No more. If I was going to meet my end I'd feel a hell of a lot better knowing that I didn't risk his life, too. So I drove on, my mind focusing on how I was going to explain this to Charlie without sounding like I lost my mind, though I was sure I already had.

xX~XxxX~Xx

I lightly kicked open the door to my apartment, two fairly heavy bags of groceries occupying my hands. I took the three or four steps until I was in front of the mini-fridge and deposited the half-carton of eggs and milk inside, lay the generic cereal bags on the counter and settled the two sub sandwiches I bought in the microwave. I only needed enough food for a day or so, just until I could be on my way.

I was hungry—starving if I was being honest, and not even thinking of Charlie could distract me. I hadn't eaten in hours, and as I watched the sun set over the Eiffel Tower just a few thousand feet away I realized that I could feed off nervous energy for but so long. There would be food in my house, I thought tiredly, food and a warm, familiar bed. Tomorrow I would fly home, on the first plane I could get. As I prepared a bowl of cereal in a piece of Tupperware, I smiled to myself, remembering how Charlie hated that I'd wanted to become an archaeologist.

"_Doesn't that mean travel, Bells?" he asked with furrowed brows. "I don't think I like the idea of you plane hopping around the world to play in dirt. Doesn't sound right."_

Of course, at the time, I'd simply waved my hand at him, wanting him to stop ragging on my career choices. He wanted me to be a residential doctor or something but that wasn't really something I could sink my teeth into; it required a certain passion. Growing up in the small town of Forks for most of my life left something to be desired; it was such a sheltered childhood. Everyone knew their neighbor's kids and their grandparents and their grandparents knew everyone's aunts in uncles in return. I wanted to do something where I didn't have to be mindful of what I said so that it could pass around as suitable gossip in a Podunk town. It was madness in Forks.

I wanted sex and violence.

Well, archeology didn't really cover those directly but uncovering the evidence that suggests that there was sex and/or violence in the past was somewhat exciting to me, in a very un-necrophiliac kind of way.

_Be careful what you wish for._

I laughed as if I just told myself the funniest joke in the world and took my flakes of bran to the room I was sleeping in, toeing around Jessica's fancy gowns that were thrown over every other surface in the apartment. Jessica was the woman with the room for rent and as thanks for letting me stay on such short notice I gave her two month's rent, only managing to kick out a few extra hundred euros. Though we'd only spoke for a few hours or so I felt as if I'd grown an attachment to the perky brunette. Of course, this could have been because she was the only person I'd come into contact with besides Edward and Alice for those few brief moments back in Washington. It was refreshing. Jessica spoke very strangely, an unpredictable mix of French and English that she blended together in the middle of every sentence. She smiled a lot and provided plentiful conversation that I hardly had to participate in as she never seemed to stop talking. Jessica was just a very bubbly, kind person. If we hadn't met under such erratic circumstances we could have possibly been friends.

Apparently, when I called in to ask about the apartment I'd been interrupting Jessica during something important, a type of hunting if you will, as she put it. Jess was out to look for a rich Monsieur who could pamper and pine for her for the rest of their short lives (She preferred elder suitors). I actually had to wait outside for an hour or two for her to get back in town and introduce herself. I was twisting my fingers anxiously over the banister leading into the building nervously, worried that someone would recognize me, when I heard the noisy clatter of expensive shoes on cracked pavement. Seeing her in a silk evening dress at 10 in the morning was strange to say the least but she was so kind that I couldn't help but overlook it.

Jessica had never swept a floor in her life—which showed—and she considered every flat surface a place to leave her astonishingly large wardrobe, most of which consisting of scanty gowns that showed off her curves. She was single-mindedly determined to marry a wealthy Frenchman, and in pursuit of that goal she spent most nights away from from her cramped quarters, which was why she was renting it out.

"I wasn't making much headway with Monsieur Marc, anyway," she said with a wave. "This was the perfect excuse to leave."

After she gave me the extremely brief tour of the flat she went off to bed. "Gotta have my beauty sleep if I want to hunt men properly." She gave me a wink and closed the door to her room. Upon expecting the kitchen I saw that there really wasn't anything to eat so I went grocery shopping. Before I even made it into the market I was enamored by the bright Parisian lights and gaudy apparel showcased in the windows of most every other store. Hell, I was in Paris—I deserved to sight see. So I did, visiting the Eiffel Tower though I refused to go up the elevator. There were way too many people—that would be an all day trip on it's own. I went to an ATM for some money, hailed a taxi which was nearly impossible, and toured the Montmartre, saw Cleopatra's Needle, and even caught a glimpse of Paris' Statue of Liberty before I exhausted myself. I hadn't gotten enough sleep as it was earlier. I bought the groceries, let myself into the building, and here I was now.

I sat on the floor in front of the window facing the Tower with all of the lights out, eating my food absently. At this point I was avoiding thinking. I didn't want to have any regrets leaving here, none at all. Knowing me though, I would undoubtedly find something to mull over so the best aversion tactic is to stop thinking all together. But even as I tried, tried so hard to not to, I kept thinking of Edward, thinking that I may never see him again. The thought made me wince and my hand flew to my stomach to quell the feeling of queasiness that resided there. This was a clean break, I reasoned. So what if I didn't say goodbye? Would that have made it any easier? A goodbye was a goodbye.

I felt my eyes burn behind their sockets and quickly climbed to my feet, throwing my dirty dishes in the sink and speed-walking into my now black room. I could barely see two inches in front of me but managed to find my laid out blanket on the floor. Since this was such an impromptu thing, Jessica didn't have a second bed ready for me but I waved her off, insisting that the floor was just as good. She gave me a comforter and a blanket to cover with and I was settled in the room without lights or a bed.

I pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail, pulled the blanket up to my chin and unsuccessfully tried to fall into slumber. An hour later, I sat up angrily, my eyebrows drawn together in frustration, and went to throw open the lone window in the room. The crisp, night air was most welcome in the stuffy room and I breathed it in gulps. I stood there for a minute, watching a plane take off into the sky, wondering where it was headed to, then begrudgingly returned to bed. I sighed, turned on my side and my eyes widened in the darkness only to see Edward himself sitting on the floor beside me, leaning against the wall bathed in moonlight, watching me in utter stillness.

* * *

Author's Note: How many of you will consider this a cliffhanger? ;)

I have good/bad news! Depends on how you feel about it. I've come up with two new ideas for stories and am in the progress of writing the first three chapters of both. Yay—new stories! Boo—Punkii's distracted! Yeah, that's the conflict here, so sorry ahead of time if the chapters are shorter than what we're used to, guys, but you can't stop the inspiration Fever running around here.

Till next time! Don't forget to review!


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Note: Tissue warning for a few of you HEA lovers! In no way is it a HEA but it'll feel like it for a hot minute down there.

Enough out of me! Go, shoo! Read!

Chapter 16: Fresh Starts and Bitter Ends

For a moment I thought I was still asleep, that I was hallucinating from something I ate, maybe. Renee always did tell me not to drink milk before bed. I just stared at him, unmoving, ragged, shallow breaths falling from my slightly opened mouth. I didn't even blink; just stared. He wasn't moving orblinking and for another moment I thought I was going crazy. I counted to seventy-three before I had to close my eyes, and I squeezed them close for a minute, opening them only to see that he was, in fact, still there. When he spoke his voice was low and calm in the darkness.

"You're lucky you're still alive," he said softly.

I didn't respond, clamping my shaking fingers down on the edge of my blanket, staying very still. If I didn't move he would fade away, he would disappear and I would go to sleep, board my plane, and see Charlie.

"Why did you leave?"

Go to sleep, board plane, Charlie...

"You do know that you could have been killed, don't you?"

Go to sleep, board plane, Charlie...

He moved then, a blur in the dark until his face was hovering above my own, his breath mingling with my own in the air between us. I didn't move, couldn't move.

Go to sleep, board plane, Charlie...

"Why did you run away, Isabella?" he breathed.

Go to sleep, board plane...

I felt his broad palm shape around my cheek, forcing his intense gaze on me, making my body shudder wildly. "Why did you go, Bella?"

Go to sleep, board plane...

"Why?"

Go to sleep...

I released my death grip on the comforter and placed my shaky hands against his chest, sliding them up over his shoulders and snaking them in his hair. My fingers curled themselves around in the hair at the base of his neck and in a split second decision I pulled myself up until our chests were flush against one another.

"Edward?" I whispered, afraid my voice would shatter the illusion.

"Bella."

He was going to kiss me. I could see the desire in his coal black eyes, the way they flickered to my mouth, my eyes and back again. I could hear it in his breaths, taste it in the air, feel it in the way he held himself against me. He wanted me. And I wanted him. I swiped my tongue over my lower lip and watched as his eyes followed the movement. I did it again just to hear the way his breath hitched and staggered against my heated skin.

I was in control at this moment.

It was no longer the captor over the captive but the other way around—it was Bella over Edward.

I saw it—before he even had the chance to glance his lips against mine I yanked my fist back, a sly smile appearing on my face as his head jerked back and he hissed, his Adam's Apple bobbing in the most delicious way as his neck was exposed to me.

"Don't move," I commanded quietly, and he didn't. Using the hand still in his hair I pulled him back a little further until I could only see his chin and watched as one hand fell down to his stomach. My eyes flickered up for a second then down again as I dragged the hem of his shirt up, up, till his stomach was glistening in the moonlight. Tentatively I stroked the hard muscles of his abdomen and gasped as they shuddered under my touch.

"Why did you come after me?" I asked quietly.

His Adam's Apple bobbed once before he answered me. "I asked you a question first."

I yelped as his hand came around my side and his fingers found the end of my ponytail. He wrapped it around his fist and tugged first softly, causing me to freeze and my hands to slack on their grip, then rough as he pulled me down under him. My body made a thud as it hit the floor and I sighed as his weight came down on top of me, pinning my hips down with his own.

He grinned mischievously for a second then became abruptly serious.

"Why did you run, Bella?"

"How did you find me?"

"I told you, it wouldn't take them anytime at all to find you. I was faster, but it won't be long until they catch up with us."

"With us?"

He cocked his head to the side, looking at me with an unreadable expression. "I have a tendency to finish what I started. You've missed one plane and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you on the next one, if I have to knock you out, tie you up and carry you on my shoulder I will."

I smashed my lips together, resisting the urge to say something nasty. "Well get off of me—I'm gonna turn on the lights—"

"We don't need lights." he said, his grip on me tightening. "That was the one smart thing you did, leaving the lights off when you came back. When they come for you a little darkness won't stop them, but you were wise not to draw undue attention to yourself."

I rolled my eyes. "This room doesn't have a light switch, Sherlock. I meant in the living room."

"Well they weren't on before you came in here, either."

"Maybe I just turned off the lights when I went to bed?"

"I was here before you arrived, Mother Theresa, carrying all those food items when you didn't need half of it. Besides that, you stole my coat—I've been freezing."

"Tough," I said absently. I didn't ask him how long he'd been here, I didn't want to know. What I did want to know, however, was how he found me. Was he watching me? Did he have someone watching me? Did he implant some high-tech tracking device under my tongue when I least expected it? Was he capable of that?

I grimaced then and Edward noticed. He ducked his head and kissed the pulsing carotid artery, then my jaw line, biting down lightly and causing my back to arch up into him. He kissed both of my cheeks, his tongue just peeking out to taste the skin there before hovering his mouth over mine.

Don't kiss me, I pleaded silently, please don't kiss me.

He was going to do it, I knew he was. Distraction, I needed a distraction right now.

"Why did you come back for me?"

That stopped him right in his tracks. His body ceased moving over me and his eyes widened slightly before he slammed that indifferent mask that I'd begun to hate on. He made a move to get off of me but I wrapped my hands around the hem of his shirt, a deep scowl making an ugly appearance.

"No. Tell me."

Please tell me, Edward. Please...

"I told you already—"

"No, you told me some of it. I don't want some of the truth, I want the whole thing. Why did you come for me? You've said more than once that if I left I was no longer your problem. Well, here you are, sneaking into my apartment while I'm half naked and molesting me. Why did you come back?"

His face hardened considerably and the look of irritation in his eyes was distracting. I almost looked away to get my bearings but held my ground at the last second. Seeing my resolve firm, he slipped his hands over mine and squeezed my wrists with a fleeting pressure that made my fingers slacken. He rolled to the side, away from me, and posted himself up on the wall again, his face turned towards the invisible corner of the room.

"Edward, you owe me an explanation."

"I don't owe you shit," he hissed.

My eyes widened in disbelief and I threw myself in his face, sitting on my knees no more than inches apart from him. My face was red-hot with blistering anger that I felt churning in the pit of my stomach.

"Really, Edward? You don't owe me anything? You don't fucking owe me anything? I'm sick of your 'Me right, you wrong' bullshit!"

"Keep your voice down!"

"Don't fucking tell me what to do, Edward! I'm not your fucking prisoner anymore!"

"Aren't you?" he asked turning back to me. He was...smiling at me. Not smiling—grinning, smirking with unadulterated amusement. He was mocking me. I balled my fists at my sides and mashed my lips together. "Then what are you to me, Bella? Hmm? What do you think you are to me? A partner? A lover?"

I'm your friend, I'm your consultant, your comforter... "I'm a human being, Edward," I whispered brokenly.

Hot, thick tears were rolling down my face with shaken humiliation now. I lowered my head so my chin was against my chest and groaned as a sob escaped me. I didn't want him to see my pain, didn't want to let him see how he hurt me.

But how couldn't he?

I was his open book; I did nothing but lay my feelings out on a platter for him. I let myself fall for a controlling, narcissistic, arrogant, stoic, asshole who did nothing but lie and toy with me. I was pathetic, ashamed that I put myself in such a vulnerable position. And, as I looked into Edward's passive-aggressive face, I saw that I couldn't do this to myself anymore; I couldn't rip myself in two to comply with this monster. This caveman.

My caveman.

We stared at each other for so long. I did not keep track of how long I watched the moonlight play in his eyes; I just sat, mesmerized with it. After a time—after I pulled myself away from his gaze—I spoke. I had to.

"I would want nothing more...than for you to be all of those things, Edward," I whispered. "But...I can't...see this—" I gestured to the space between our chests, "—happening without one of us trying to strangle the other.

"I'm going home," I said with new found determination. "My dad is a cop, he can protect me—I'll be fine. I won't mention your name or anything about you, I swear. I'm leaving now. I planned to wait till morning but..." I shook my head with a small smile on my face and pushed off of my knees, the coverlet dropping from my lap. I moved to the opposite end of the room, pulling his stolen shirt over my head and stepping into the jeans on the floor before dragging them up my legs.

"Bella."

His voice was so quiet that I could have imagined it but I knew it was the real thing now. I would only be so lucky to imagine him.

I threw my hair back over my shoulders and tied it up into a messy twist, shrugging on his leather jacket and slipping into the shoes by the door.

"Bella."

His voice was harder now, more firm as I heard the predominance leaking out of his mouth.

I moved past his still form, picking the blanket up and folding it along my chest before setting it down near the window. I didn't want to leave Jessica's place a dump.

Just as I put my hand on the brass knob leading to the front room, I saw more than felt Edward's unforgiving frame dance in my periphery as he grabbed my wrist, twisted it around my body and shoved me into the wall. Hard. My breath left my body in a whoosh and I spluttered as he tightened his grip on me, bending my wrist back so that my palm was flat against the drywall.

I was going to cry out, to scream to Jessica for her to come running in with a knife or something when Edward clamped his hand down on my mouth, making sure to hook his thumb around my jaw for good measure. I was blinking back tears now, but not from pain-oh, no, I could barely register that over the searing annoyance at, once again, being manhandled by this asshole.

His ire was rolling off of him in waves, pummeling me over and over as his rich, smoky scent washed over me but compared to how I was feeling it was going to be a photo finish of who would crack first. His eyes were molten steel on me, a fire licking every inch of skin that they traced over before coming at a stop at my own.

"Let...go of me," I said as levelly as I could manage through a thick throat.

"Absolutely not. I'll be damned if you're going to tell me what to do—"

"Yeah, well, I'll see you in hell then, Edward."

"You will not speak to me like that, Isabella! Ever!"

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Edward? King Fucking Henry? Huh? You think you can order me around like some damn slave girl now?" I was not going to be brushed aside by some egotistic douche who didn't know his ass from his elbow about human emotions.

"Well if you learned to answer when your goddamn name is being called I wouldn't have to!"

"Oh, so it's okay for you to ignore my questions but God forbid I do it, right?"

"I don't owe you shit! You owe me your life! Big FUCKING difference!"

"To you, maybe! I asked you a simple fucking question and you flaked like a fucking piece of dander on your pretty ass shoulder! I'm not going to kiss your ass just because you demand it anymore! You answer me now, or so help me, Edward Anthony, I will give you hell for the duration of our time together."

I could see him backing down now, little by little as he tore his eyes from mine to scowl at our feet.

"Don't. Isabella, don't you dare," he warned shaking his head.

"No, Edward. I will. Tell me. Why did you come back for me?"

"Why does it matter to you?" he roared suddenly, surprising me.

"You wanna know why it matters to me, Edward? Because your stringing me along like a piece of fucking meat on a journey across the world! Your lying to me, your playing with me, and your incapable of fucking compassion! Do you have any idea how this will affect me when all this is over? Do you expect me to just forget about all this and go on with my regular life?"

"That was essentially the plan, yes!"

"Fuck you, Edward!"

"Don't you dare—!"

"Can you fucking let me go before you twist my damn hand off?"

"No!"

"You are a FUCKING neanderthal! Why, Edward, why can't you ever just talk to me?"

"Because when I try it always ends up like this."

"You never try," I croaked. I turned my eyes to the ceiling and pursed my lips into a tight line, forcing the angry tears back as a small sob broke through my chest.

"Why, Edward?" I breathed. "Why can't you just tell me? From day fucking one, you could never just come outright with it. Do you know how frustrating that is for me? How stupid that makes me feel? How inadequate that I feel because I can't keep up with you, Edward? It hurts. It hurts like hell. It hurts more than you seconds from snapping my wrist. It hurts more than being choked because of a misunderstanding, and it hurts more than being shoved into any wall. And all—ALL!—of this pain is—!"

"Parce que je me soucie de vous."

That stopped me dead in my tracks. I halted in my rant mid-sentence with my jaw slack as he lay his forehead against my own, slowly releasing my wrist and delicately bringing it to his lips while keeping his eyes closed. I don't think I heard him right but I knew I'd never heard words spoken so reverently in my entire life. It was nothing but a whisper and yet there was nothing more loud than his declaration to me just now. He brushed his lips over and around my skin, occasionally stopping to breath in deeply and sigh. I opened my mouth to speak but absolutely nothing came out. Currently, I was a mess on the inside and I just needed to keep my shit together. I had to keep my shit together—for Edward's sake. For both of our sakes.

But I was failing pretty fucking badly, all things considered. After so long—just shy of an entire month of nothing but his company—and this was the first time that he'd not only shown me an emotion of his beside anger, but...

It was what he said.

And just like that I was crying again, but not in earnest, just...crying.

"Edward," I breathed.

"You smell good," he replied just as quiet. I felt my eyebrows knit together in askance. "Did you know that, Isabella? You smell so fucking good."

"Edward?"

In a movement so slow and light I barely felt it, Edward slid the tips of his fingers over the sleeves of his jacket, up my shoulders and neck, and trapped my face between his heated palms. With his forehead still against mine he muttered something unintelligibly and oh-so lightly brushed his lips against mine. I clenched my eyes shut as a shiver ran up and down my arms, leaving a trail of goose flesh in it's wake. How could such brief contact ruffle me so much?

"Bella." His breath fanned across my face in one hot, husky wave that made my toes curl and my nipples peak. "Open your eyes."

I gasped as I complied, dark brown meeting black and emerald. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes now, darkness be damned. I saw everything I needed to in his heated gaze; lust, want, fear and an internal conflict so strenuous it rivaled my own.

Once more, he grazed my lips with a gentle caress that seemed to set my entire body on fire. It was beyond a simple fire; it was an inferno. His tongue reached out tentatively, skimming across my upper lip before I met him halfway.

And just like that, the entire interaction bursted up into flames.

My hands flew up into his hair, pulling his face down to meet my own as our mouths clashed together sloppily. I took his lower lip between my teeth and ran my tongue over it in one long swipe, issuing a loud groan from him, and sucked it in earnest. Edward's arms spanned out around me, one arm wrapping around my shoulders and the other my waist as he pulled me impossibly closer to him. My back collided with the wall with a loud thump and I arched against it as a need so intense my legs buckled blazed through me. In one crushing wave, a frenzy of emotions crashed down on me, crushing me with it's weight. There was too much of him, not enough of him, he was too close, he wasn't close enough. I was frantic in my need to be near him and he reciprocated this travesty in his own show of hectic artlessness.

"Edward," I cried.

"I know, baby, I know." His voice was muffled in my neck, his hot pants coloring my skin in pimples. He detached his lips from my neck, rowdily pushing the leather off of my shoulders and slipping his fingers under my shirt, clawing at my hips and back. I just as hurriedly removed his sweater from his arms and without a second's hesitation Edward's hands delved into my hair as he crushed his mouth to mine and forced his tongue into my mouth. I was eager for more now, weaving my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and holding him to me, taking in every breath that he exhaled.

The tears were falling freely now, my choking sobs erupting erratically as our movements slowed.

"Shh, Bella, love, please, shh."

"I..I...I'm s...sorry," I hiccoughed.

"What's got you so upset, ma belle? Hmm?"

"I...I'm just so...happy!" I spluttered.

His lips curved into a smile beneath my own and I pulled his lower lip back before mashing my mouth onto his again, my tongue running along the luscious curve there before I sucked his tongue into my mouth and hollowed my cheeks out. I wanted it all, I wanted all of him, I couldn't get enough.

He moaned a garbled version of my name before pulling away and placing his hands on my hips. I placed open mouthed kisses on his neck, inhaling, loving and tasting the flavor of his skin as he pushed his hips into mine and firmly put his hands under my buttocks, lifting me up the wall and holding me there as he put himself between my legs with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows. I laughed, a sound that bubbled up my throat and eased the long forgotten tension in my shoulders with it's joviality and carefreeness. His smile was the same, blinding in it's rareness.

This, this smiling, charming, passionate man in front of me was what I've been waiting for the moment I woke up to an anxiety attack in a dank, dark room of a cavern with only a stranger as my aide. This was my Edward.

My smile stayed in place but the lone tear that fell that second was of pure joy.

I broke him! I broke him!

I broke the robot!

I found my caveman!

"Hey," he breathed as his forehead touched mine. God, he had an amazing accent.

"Hi," I replied quietly.

He cupped my face, rubbing at the wet skin under my eyes and kissed me softly now, unhurriedly as he explored my mouth. My arms wrapped around his neck tightly, my legs around his waist as I sat back and let him lead it. We were fighting, we were fighting it so damn hard, but with each new kiss another tankard of kerosene was thrown on the fire pit of our desire for one another, making it harder and harder to pull away.

I was just about ready to strip him bare when a sudden bang thundered throughout the apartment. We jumped apart, Edward's grip on me tightening as we watched and waited for another noise. When we heard the padding of multiple footsteps on the floor just above ours Edward's mask of indifference was quickly replaced, his entire demeanor shifting as he set me back on the floor.

Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no no.

"Edward?" I whispered, my nails holding his hair in a tight fist of desperation. No, not after all the shit that we went through to break that fucking wall down. Not. Now.

A look of understanding and tenderness flashed in his eyes as he stroked my cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere, Bella," he murmured determinedly. "But we have to go. Now."

I nodded after a moment, accepting his silent promise.

I won't shut you out anymore. I'm sorry.

There was another bang upstairs, a heavy object hitting the floor, I prayed. Edward hissed in my ear for me to grab the change of clothes in the bathroom and change quickly, no diddling, and I was shuffling out into the front room as quietly as I could possibly manage.

"They knew you were here, they were just waiting for a good time to strike."

I noticed with a pang in my chest that these were Jessica's clothes; a dark black corset with red lace and leather pants. If I was going to be on the run, the last thing I wanted to be doing whilst is freezing my ass off or flashing the unsuspecting public. Begrudgingly but with a pep in my step, I pulled everything on, hating that the top and pants were about two sizes too small now and quite constricting. With a quick glance in the mirror I smirked seeing my flushed face and chest and swollen lips. I looked a lot more like a happy camper than a few days ago back in Forks.

Speaking of home, Jessica probably wouldn't have appreciated me just disappearing on her without a trace. She was asleep now, I knew but I had to let her know that I wasn't kidnapped or something. Go fucking figure.

I glanced at the door briefly then set about looking for a stationary set, settling for a tube of rouge lipstick and a few sheets of toilet tissue. Short and sweet and right to the point. "Thanx again for the apt. Srry I had to jet so soon."

"Bella!"

I nearly jumped out of my fucking skin as Edward knocked the lock off of the door, his eye widening as they roamed over my apparel for the evening. My skin blazed effing crimson as he licked his effing lips looking at my effing chest. This man would be the death of me.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked distractedly.

I rolled my eyes and stepped past him back into the small front room. "Yeah, just let me put this in Jess's room."

From my periphery I saw Edward's back go ramrod straight but his reaction time was just a second too late before I swung Jessica's bedroom door open, switching on the light. He recognized the smell before I did.

He tried to get to me in time, but it was that pesky little second between us where I'd already gone in. This room was darker than the rest, even with the early predawn, and I'd already known; I saw it first—I turned the light on.

His hand was already over mine, turning it off, but not fast enough that I didn't see the woman's body lying on the floor. She hadn't been dead for more than a few hours, probably just before I had returned. The smell would have been more noticeable if she'd been there awhile.

And then the realization of where the hell I was in this moment slammed into me like a fucking freight train going 100 miles an hour. This wasn't some cheap, trashy novel where I run away with my knight and shining armor. I was running for my life and now I was dragging innocent lives into my ring of fucking fire.

I felt fucking terrible.

The air left my lungs in one choking gasp, jagged steel to my windpipes, as my knees buckled beneath me. Breathing in the putrid smell of Jessica's rotting corpse—the stench of her blood in the air, was like huffing carbon monoxide and paint thinner and it was suddenly too trying to breathe. I was suffocating. As my legs gave out I crumbled backward, my head lolling unnaturally off of my neck as gravity pulled me down but was just short of touching the floor as arms encircled my waist and held me up.

He put his arm around me, clapped his hand over my mouth to silence my scream and dragged me from the room, kicking the door shut behind us, closing the body away from us. But the smell had already filled the room, and I had to get out of there, fast.

"Bella? Bella, are you listening to me?"

I nodded slowly, detached.

There were very few things I remember after that.

Edward told me to run to Paris.

Run.

He sent me out the way he'd came, through the back way, over the roofs and through the storage room window. He pulled my boots on for me. He tucked his jacket around my shoulders. He kissed me and I didn't kiss him back.

I left.

I ran.

I didn't stop.

I made it to Paris.

A large man grabbed my arm.

His skinny friend forced me into the trunk.

I passed out from everything that came crashing down on me.

"I promise I'll catch up to you."

He couldn't keep this promise.

Author's Note: How in the hell is that a Happily Ever After, Punkii? —Hey, I said it wasn't; you got all ahead of yourself and skimmed that damn A/N!

So, what's going on in our heads? What's going to happen to Bella? Let's get those Hamster Wheel's turning, people! You guys should DEFINITELY drop lil ol' me a review. Seriously, even the one worded reviews motivate me to keep writing, which we all see motivation +Punkii= Productive.

See You Next Time!


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:** Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, and one more time, Thank You. Thank you for your undying patience and thriving love for this story to have stuck around this far after that long-haul of a wait. I can't express my gratitude enough. Welcome to all you new comers and a big Thank You to you reviewers because reading them tickles me pink. Enough out of me, you've waited long enough for this. Ladies and Gentleman, venture on...

Chapter 17: Scramble and Elude

"Stop it."

"I can't help it. I'm just in shock."

"Al, for the love of God, you're going to bruise her. Look-she's yellowing up there now."

"What do you think she'll say when she sees us?"

"I dunno. I'm just glad she's here."

"Did you see him yet?" Caution.

"No. Those two boobs are going to incredible lengths to keep us from seeing him."

"And for damn good reason. If I get my hands on that motherf-"

"Al." Warning.

A sigh. "The past four weeks must have been hell for her. Look at all the marks..."

"I know. We just have to support her when she wakes up; we have to be there for her."

"She's going to be traumatized."

"Then we'll put in her therapy. In fact, we might do group. The doc had plenty of degrees. Psychology has to be one of them."

"Well sign me up! That man was damn fine!"

A snort. "Oh, please. You were too interested in his son to notice HBC. And anyway your mom is getting enough family therapy for the both of you. I see her sneaking down the hallway at lunch-"

"SHE'S WAKING UP!"

A flurry of movement. A voice calling out a dozen feet away or so. A cloth of tepid water put to my forehead. A door opening and closing. A disorganized chanting, all different variations and tones of "Bella" lapping like gentle waves on sand at my conscious. With slow proceedings I struggled to surface, flexing my wrists and fingers and pulling in deeper breaths.

An then a thunderous voice I was sure emerged from hell sounded over the chants.

I gasped.

The pealing that resided in my chest, the blood that was rushing in my veins, was the only noise that was keeping me from panicking, from throwing my arms out and attacking, defending; from kicking at anything that my foot encountered, as I breathed my air in gulps.

My head, _God _my head, was writhing against itself; the two separate hemispheres clashing and colliding over and over with my frail heart caught in the middle.

My hands curled into fists as the discernible moments of my memory came charging at me.

_How in the hell could there have still been so many stores open at this time at night? _

This may have more or less been one very unpractical plan. Parisian blocks went on for days and though I was running as fast as I could I felt as if I wasn't getting anywhere. The boots and scanty clothing weren't helping either. The moon was high and bright overhead, it's light bouncing off of the large buildings' window displays and collecting on the sidewalk. The Marais night walking public was just as lively as it was in the day, the bubbling of chatter, laughter and byway entertainment filtering through the streets and sinking into the colder, darker depths of the alleys that I stuck to, only a constant whistle in my ears as my legs bounded in quick sprints.

I was running without direction, a dangerous thing to do in foreign lands and with each step my fear that Edward would not regroup with me later on grew.

But the mindless running was good.

I couldn't think too hard if I was running. I didn't want to think right now.

Southbound.

That was all I knew of where I was headed. The Eiffel Tower was moving farther and farther away from me and the more distance I put between myself and Paris the better. But my lungs were raw and ready to burst. The lingering taste of Jessica's blood from the acrid air from just a few minutes prior was still fresh on my tongue. Salty, hot, bitter. I'd yet to gain feeling in my legs but that was in the very back of my mind; but I knew I had to stop, even if only for a few seconds.

Curbing my body slightly I flung myself into the wall nearest my left, wedging myself between a stack of old boxes and a dumpster. It smelled putrid but I was thankful—I preferred the taste of garbage over murder any day of the week. I realized just a little too late though that I may have broken on my fall _too _haphazardly as I was now tangled in cardboard. My shoulder was pinned to the ground, the edge of a box positioned perfectly at my shoulder blade. My face was pressed to the wall; my neck turned in a way that was almost crippling and my foot was directly over my head. I felt as if I was bending myself into a pretzel. I didn't want to make a noise but I was under the delusional impression that my spine would snap in half. The pain became more difficult with every second and already a small whimper was rising in my throat. I could feel the bruises forming where the boxes were indented into my skin and I felt the pain that came with them. I pushed my shoulders forward, dogging them into the granite streets but with no avail—the cardboard just wouldn't let up.

I missed Edward. I needed him.

I'd gone so long being dependent on one person that I could no longer do anything on my own. Past Bella scoffed at me; present Bella flipped her the bird.

I could only imagine what his reaction to seeing me like this would have been. I had seen him laugh so rarely in our time together that visualizing him throwing his head back and watching his Adam's apple bob with mirth was heavenly to me. And it was exactly what I needed to kick my ass back into shape and stop my blubbering—the longer I stayed trapped under cardboard the more likely it was I wouldn't see him again. Whatever threat it was that murdered Jessica in cold blood, that prompted my desperate escape, Edward would outwit it, outwit it and get the hell out of dodge. I had to do the same. I got myself into this shit and I could damn sure get out. They were only boxes for Christ's sake!

So, with one large gulp of air and a pierce to my lower back, I lowered my right leg down, weaving it over and around unforgivably sharp corners and found the edge of the dumpster. Releasing the left wouldn't have been any less damaging than if I had just threw the boxes away from my person, so, with the leverage of the dumpster I pulled myself from the wedge between the wall and found my hands, numb and achy from their crippling position crushed under my body. Just because I had my hands free didn't mean I was out of the woods; it was still craft from here. Continuing to anchor my weight I bend my leg back, gently toeing the boxes overhead to the floor, still pulling at a snail's pace as my hands kept my face protected from cuts that pinched my palms and knuckles. With the lower half of my torso free I was home. I lifted the box directly over my head and held it up as I wormed out, scooting forward with my bottom and letting the hazardous boxes collapse back into a giant death trap. I dropped down onto the cold, wet floor and spread my limbs, wincing as a ghost of the night breeze brushed over my fresh injuries. I was panting harder than I was when I had originally found the nook.

How long had I been screwing around?Had I even run far enough to be able to rest yet? I hoped with everything in me that Edward was okay.

My eyes were glued to the moon, it's visage only partly obscured by the Parisian rooftops and chimneys. 347 seconds passed before the itch to run set in, and I numbly gathered to my, tapping the toe of my shoe into the ground twice before breaking into a sprint, melding with into the black shadows of the apartment and business complex alleyways.

*x;lix;vex;*

_I went too damn far_, I berated myself. _I should have turned two miles back_.

I paused my stride just as a truck curved haphazardly off the curb I stood on, blasting past me down the super highway that I'd foolishly led myself onto. I watched it speed away carelessly, obviously in a rush, and stepped back between the buildings to remain unseen by the few stragglers that stalled by store fronts. The Sienne was just across the road and docked there were what was probably hundreds of private boats to traverse the city in. If I could just get to one I could hide out for a while, maybe until morning before heading back in the direction I'd come, back to Jessica's apartment and board that flight back to the States. Dawn couldn't have been very far off; I would only keep out of sight for a few hours.

I couldn't help the scowl that twisted my face at my train of thought. I was a mess. I went from craving Edward to the very depths of my soul to re-planning my deportation back to Washington. He would most certainly find me again, of that I was sure, but it would be like suffering the slowest, most painful, most torturous death counting the miles that would seperate us second by second. Just thinking about it made my stomach churn.

It was then, at that very moment, that someone looked at me; a tall blonde man with a beanie hat was staring unabashedly in my direction, and the look on his face said he knew exactly who I was. Our gazes were locked from the 50 or so feet that we stood apart as was every muscle in my body, my mind flipping through evasion tactics and maze-like alleys that I'd passed to get here.

_Get away, _I chanted. _Get away, get away._

That's all I needed to do—there was no longer a need for contemplation or pining or self-pitying; only survival and instinct. Edward wasn't here to protect me this time. My heart was in my throat and I lived a year in a minute as I waited to see who would make the first move.

It was him; the blonde cast a swift glance down the road before facing me again and the second I registered the muscles locking in his thighs as he prepared to sprint I took off like a shot. I was running, my legs moving without any help from my part, dodging litter and the numerous property trashcans as I flew by. Footsteps other than my own echoed through the alleys with heavy thuds that bounced and ricocheted off the walls and to my ears, propelling me forward, strengthening my strides to cover more distance in a lesser amount of time. But, still, it wasn't enough—he was getting closer and closer, gaining inches on me. I couldn't run straight forever or there would be no doubt that he would catch me. I had to break left—going the opposite direction would lead me directly into the night traffic. Gauging distance while on the move was much more difficult than it seemed and even harder still when your mind is in a high alert panic being chased down by a potential murderer. With every second that passed his footsteps were gaining. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at full attention as if his hands were ghosting across my shoulder, trying to find a grip on me. The moon's light withdrew; a clover of cumulus clouds eclipsed the orb from the sky, darkening my path and blinding me. Only the few feet in front of me were visible and in a do-or-die desperate situation, I ducked for a handful of something—anything!— and threw the lump sum into the connecting alley off my left, and, quite ungracefully, flung myself onto the wall and pressed my front to it fully. Whatever I threw was sharp enough and blunt enough to have the exact effect I was aiming for: decoy footsteps. It was as if I'd turned and—Thank God—I threw it just hard enough that it was enough of a significant noise to capture my pursuer's attention. I held my breath and didn't so much as move an inch as the man's figure flew past me. I was intuned on his every move and could have done the Irish Jig in place when he took the bait. I listened out for the man's footsteps made the turn that the decoy objects skidded through and tiptoed as lithely and quietly down the way we'd come, being extra careful to avoid puddles as I danced by. I didn't move too quickly and though it was dark as pitch, my eyes were glued to the ground. I moved strategically but I listened out for the man's footsteps or any sign that he caught onto my ploy, just in case. Stopping at a junction connecting the main alley and two branching more narrow alley I peered down the path and struggled to see how far and where they would take me.

I took the left. I kept my step harmonized with my attacker's, stretching my legs as long as they would go to cover more distance. I had just stumbled when his steps came to a sudden stop. I froze.

He sighed and I heard the distinct noise of something being dropped. His hat maybe? Another moment of silence passed before he let out a long slew of curses, flicked a lighter, and started backwards. My heart kicked into overdrive again and I began moving too, faster and literally on my toes.

xxqqxxQQxxqqxx

The sound of the man's steps disappeared long before I finally went back to running. I was going to catch my death out here, running, sleeveless, in the rain. My teeth were beginning to chatter and yet there was a mat of sweat on my forehead. After an hour more of mindless traveling I began to feel my legs again and I found myself praying for more numbness as my thighs, ankles and soles of my feet felt like they were being pricked with millions of tiny needles, as if a crowd of people were casting small, sharp pebbles at me. Pain, pain, pain.

Just as I passed over the _Pont du Carrousel_ onto _Quai Voltaire _the brilliant lights of the Eiffel Tower were once again in view. My safest bet was to go toward it; being the tourist capital of the world it would be impossible not to have a few hundred tourists about no matter what time it was. I was reckless now, staying out of the alleys and simply taking to the sidewalk. I was far enough from Marais now, I was sure. 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 15, then 20 passed as I raced to safety. If I was being honest, I _was_ sightseeing along the way. How couldn't you? The city was just too beautiful for words. From the corner of my eye, I watched as an older gentleman with white hair beneath a cap stumbled off the street curb and fell to his knees, the brown bag of groceries he'd been holding tumbling to the ground. I immediately brought myself to a stop and wheeled around, looking in both directions of the street before crossing and stopping to help him up. Truthfully it was just an excuse to take a break but a dutiful one. I dropped to my knees and put a hand to his back, bending my head to see if he was alright.

"Excuse me. Sir? Are you alright?" I panted. "Do you need help?"

"Oh, bless you, young lady. I was crossing the street to get to my car when I slipped and fell. These old bones aren't what they used to be anymore." His voice was gravelly yet impossibly deep in timbre, and though he spoke in French his accent didn't quite fit.

"Would you like me to help you? To carry your bags?"

"Bless you, dear. Bless you, bless you."

I gave him my hand to help him up and couldn't help the gasp that escaped me as, one, I felt his grip, something akin to being handheld by a bear, and, two, I saw just how massive he was though he was pitched forward. He. Was. Huge. Like Golden-Year Heavyweight Champion huge. Even folded over he towered above me. As he turned his head to smile at me I was, again, dumbstruck. Prominent wrinkles, crater-like dimples, and blue eyes that would knock you off your feet. Like a very old adorable baby.

After realizing I was gawking I ducked to retrieve his fallen produce, dropping them into the bag I held at my chest with one arm.

"I'll help you get these into your truck, Sir. No, please, no charge," I smiled shaking my head as he offered me francs and euros.

"Bless you, Miss, bless you."

He pointed me down the direction of his vehicle and we moved slowly, me catching my breath and he watching me from the corner of his eye.

"So, what is a pretty young lady like yourself doing jogging at this hour?"

"Um, I couldn't sleep so I just went on a short run to tire myself out."

"Ah." A long pause. "I pray you be careful though, Miss. You never know who wanders about while the sun rests."

I nodded absently, not really paying attention.

"I must thank you again for helping me. You are a saint, young lady."

"It was nothing. I'm happy to help," I answered quickly.

"Just through here, Miss. I like to keep my car cool so I don't burn up inside."

We turned to a dead end where a modest four-seater was parked a little crookedly, a dumpster and a fire escape at the end.

"I'll pop the trunk for you. There we are. Set it down to furthermost right in the corner. Right there. Thank you, Miss."

"No problem," I responded with my head still buried in the back of his car, marveling at how spacious it was to be a standard modeled car. "Are you planning on doing anymore shopping?" _Are you up for harboring a wanted woman until morning?_

_"_No. I'm done here now so we best get going."

Every muscle in my body tensed, my chest froze mid-breath, and my eyes flew open to the size of saucers as a younger, firmer, and more foreign version of the old man answered me. I spun around to see him remove his cap, to see the white hair fall to the floor, and to see him scratch the layers of clay that made his wrinkles off his face. He stood at full height now and I knew there was no chance in hell that I would be able to get past him.

From behind me I heard rustling and immediately turned to see no one other than the blonde from earlier jump down from the fire escape, onto the dumpster and onto solid ground before tilting his head to watch me.

I was surrounded.

"Please," the large man started. I whipped my head around to face him, keeping the blonde in my periphery. "don't make this harder than this has to be. Just turn around, climb into the trunk so Jasper here can tie you up and be a good girl."

A tic worked in my jaw and I spit in his direction, a haze of red clouding my vision. Did he really want me to just give in so easily? After how hard I'd worked to make it this far, to survive this long? He was dreaming.

He sighed. "Okay. I see we'll have to do this the hard way. Jasper."

He nodded and the blonde crouched a bit and began to circle around me as the large brute stepped closer.

It was then with a racing heart beat, a tear streaked face, and enough anger to take down an entire country that I realized what I'd hate to lose most in this world:

Edward.

I was losing the chance to know him, to know what he liked, what he hated, his favorite color, his favorite activity, sport, gemstone, flower, book, if any. I was losing the opportunity to become friends with him, to view Paris with him, to tell him how handsome I thought he was, how much I liked being around him. I was giving up the chance to see him again, to have him hold me as he had in the apartment, to kiss me, to make love to me for the first time, to have his bronze headed children, and to be with each other in our golden years...

_To love him._

And this, this big, blue-eyed monster and his lanky mute friend were trying to take all of that from me.

_To take him from me._

A hatred so acute it was blinding ripped through me, seared my heart, poured out of the pants and gasps falling from my lips and burned my fingertips. I balled my fists to subdue the pain but with no luck, it burned hotter, and it seemed the only way to quell the fire would be to hurt these men, to make them suffer like I did. If they wanted me, fine, they would have me, but I was going down swinging.

The blonde flanked me, coming up on my rear as the large one opened his arms before me, trapping me. They closed in and just as the bear swooped in to grab me I pulled back and swung my arm out to catch the skinny one in the abdomen. He doubled over, not expecting the blow, and I curved my fingers into the hem of his shirt before pulling him forward and knocking him into the big one. He stumbled but caught his friend before he hit the ground and hauled him to the side, advancing on me again.

Behind me was the dumpster and fire escape. It was futilely dangerous to try climbing up so the only other way out was the mouth of the alley. As the bear stood a few feet in front of me I ducked, first left, then right to cross him up before sprinting from my crouch to the open street. Just as I passed the folded over blonde he caught me around my waist and flung me back into the iron chest of the blue-eyed monster. He grabbed my arms before I could move to hit him and held them above my head as I twisted and kicked my feet, landing one solid blow to his friend's knee. Poor guy seemed to be getting the brunt of my anger.

"Enough!" the monster roared.

With one hand holding my wrists high over my head he retrieved a cloth from his back pocket and held it over my nose and mouth. Just as he did so I pulled in a lungful of air and held my breath, giving up my struggle and going limp as to preserve my air. The skinny one grabbed my legs from beneath me and together they hauled me into the back of the car, tied my hands together with a rope and put a healthy length of duct tape over my mouth. Just before closing the trunk, the burly man stabbed my abdomen with his first four fingers causing me to heavily exhale and put the cloth to my face again just as I inhaled. Just as the noxious haze sat on the horizon of my consciousnesses I whimpered.

Edward...so familiar...

The last thing I smelt was chloroform. And my last sight was of copper hair. . .

As if it were possible, I fell into an even deeper sleep than was regular, like rest for your subconscious, sleeping within your own dreams, and what made it ever the more peaceful and haunting was the voice that lilted me to sleep.

"Rest now, Bella. You deserved it. I'm proud of you."

**Author's Note:** I think I'll leave this Author's Note as one big exhale. Next Chapter is probably on the weekend because this is cut in half to avoid it's being a monster chapter. I promise this time.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Author's Note:**_I won't be making too many promises in the future now, I promise. Anyway there aren't that many chapters left; I predict about 7 more and a REALLY THICK epilogue, and with what needs to be put into the chapters they're all probably gonna be thicker than my normal updates. Thank you for the undying patience once again and I also want to thank you all for joining me on this emotional ride. Venture on and please enjoy the ride...

* * *

Chapter 18: Regretfully Acknowledge

_Defend._

I heard the pop before I felt it, but in a blur I was up, I was on my feet, one hand was up to protect my face, and the other was curled into a fist and going across someone's jaw.

_Attack._

This was survival. I'd been bested before but the fresh, rekindled adrenaline in my veins made me think I had a fighting chance this time.

_Counter._

A large white hand was aimed for my jugular but I got in a swift punch to the ribs before it found purchase.

_Protect._

Whoever was receiving my blows was recouping too quickly for me to do efficient damage and eventually my pitiful hits wouldn't be anything to him; I had to throw him off. I ducked just as he tried to encircle me in his arms and crouched behind him, getting in a quick punch to the back of his head but I was moving slow, slow enough for him to have thrown his elbow into my collar, causing me to stagger back.

_Recover._

The man was folded over, holding his ribs with one arm with his back still turned to me, probably under the impression that I would be down long enough that he could regain some momentum to finish me.

_Kill._

With a feral scream I jumped onto his back and gripped the black mat of his hair in one hand, pulling it back as far as my strength permitted me and enclosed his throat with the other, splaying my fingers out over the indentation between his Adam's Apple and his trachea and squeezing.

And then I heard the voice that made my muscles go slack, my legs turn to mulch and my eyes cloud with unshed tears scream:

_"Bella!"_

"Edward?" I squeaked.

That was his voice—I'd know it anywhere. He sounded as if he were only a few dozen yards away! Where was he? Where was I? I was put in the back of the trunk when they caught me, I was sure, but did they make a stop on the way to their destination? Was Edward tailing them to get to me? Or did they want Edward, too? Were they trying to take him as well?

I'd forgotten all about my friend who was currently twisting me from his back to his front and holding my hands over my head in his bear-like palms. Even as he carried my motionless body and dropped me down in a chair I couldn't focus on anything over Edward, over the sound of his voice being so close to me.

I waited. I waited for thirty seconds, hoping I would hear his voice again and forgot everything else around me. But I didn't hear it. Had I imagined it? No, I couldn't have; I was certain it came from somewhere around where I was. But where was I? Definitely not in the back of someone's car.

It took a second's hesitation but I refocused my attention to the present and my surroundings, mentally filing away the direction I thought Edward would be in so I could find him after kicking so-and-so's ass.

It could have been because I was expecting to be locked away in a dungeon or hidden underground in a ratty sewer but seeing where I was in actuality had to have been more shocking than seeing who else was here as well.

It was a room from a museum or rather a professor's long forgotten study only slightly tidied over time. There were shelves upon shelves of floor to ceiling bookcases lined up side by side that wrapped around the considerably sized room and even a few cases in the center of the floor in rows of two. The walls were off-white with muted gold cording that braided around the several arches that led out of the room to connecting compartments with varying signs overhead. The floors were made up of marble, granite, limestone and sandstone, arranged and fixed to create opulent depictions of what I would guess to be age old folklore. The stone square that led to where I heard Edward's voice was colored in avocado and cobalt fixtures, a scarlet nucleus with an auburn membrane surrounded by flames but, peculiarly, settled over a moving body of water that flowed only in circles. This picture—I wasn't sure why but it set my nerves on fire, put me on edge. Why did it seem eerily relevant?

"Bella?"

I refused to acknowledge this voice; I may have been going crazy but I wasn't so far gone that I would put anyone I love in the same vicinity as me in a situation as insane as this.

"Is she okay? She's crying! Oh, sweetie, come 'ere."

I froze to the spot I sat in. The voice was touching me, holding me actually. If I willed the voices not be real then they wouldn't be.

"Oh, Bella, you look awful. And what are you wearing?"

"What the hell are you two doing here?" I demanded quietly, eyes still on the colorful square and the door beyond it.

"We can talk about that later. Bella, baby, look at me."

They were real; no point in avoiding it anymore—and the set of baby blue eyes and flock of golden hair that shone in my vision was a testament to that. Before I could throw out anymore morbid questions and pump them both up with accusations I wrapped my arms around Rosalie's waist and clung to her for dear life. She hesitated for only a second before pulling me to her chest and squeezing. I heard Alice coo from a few feet away before she flung herself onto us and joined in our reunion. I couldn't stop myself from crying at this point so I just let the tears fall—and Ro and Al weren't anywhere near as conscious of their blubbering as I was; Rose was wailing in my hair and Alice was keening like a cat in my ear.

I loved these jackasses.

"How are you guys?" I asked after the noise died down. "Are you alright? No one's hurt either of you, have they?" I lifted my head to run my hand over their wet faces and into their hair, checking for myself before either of them could say anything.

"No," Alice sniffed shaking her head, "we're both fine but _you _are who we're more worried about. You look like hell, Bells."

"Yeah," I giggled tensely. "I would say I do."

"What's going on with you and what the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?" Rose asked in that no-nonsense tone of hers. "Whatever you did, Bells, you're in some deep shit, my friend."

"To be honest, I'm not even sure."

"I think I can explain."

I jumped up onto the balls of my feet, knocking Rosalie back a few feet from where she stood and shook myself free from Alice's grip, positioning myself in front of them. Sure enough the one who had just spoken up was the man who kidnapped me in Paris—the monster. He was big—huge, really—but he was alone this time which meant I probably had a chance to take him, and, though the thought made my stomach turn, if I needed the help Alice and Rose were right behind me.

The man put his hands up and gave me a leveled stare. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm not here to fight, I swear."

"You should have fucking said that last night. You think I believe you after what you did to me?" I spat.

"What the hell, Bella? Leave him alone, he's not going to do anything; he's a nice guy."

"Oh? Well this 'nice guy' drugged me with chloroform and stuffed me in the back of his trunk. I don't really appreciate that."

"I'm sorry; those were orders from the top. I didn't want to be so rough with you but you were making things difficult, I had no choice."

"So what the fuck is stopping me from killing you now?"

"I don't think Edward would appreciate it very much if you killed one of his only friends."

My resolve folded like thin metal under a flame; I dropped my arms and my knees buckled a bit but I kept my footing. "Edward? Is he okay?" I asked quietly, throwing a quick glance to the door in the corner of the room. "Where is he?"

"I'll take you to him but only if you promise not to kill me," he teased.

I pursed my lips for a second in thought, then took a step back and apologized. Alice and Rosalie took my sides with curious looks before weaving their fingers through my own.

"If anyone's sorry it should be me and my partner. I'm McCarty," he said holding out his hand with a toothy grin, "but everyone calls me Emmett. And you must be the infamous Isabella Swan. It's nice to finally formally meet you."

"Likewise," I muttered releasing Alice's hand to give to the man, reclaiming it after he gave me a few wild shakes. "So where are we and what are these two-" I lifted either of my hands for emphasis, "—doing here?"

"In the car. I'd be happy to explain the situation in the car."

The car ride was excruciatingly slow, dreadfully long, and painfully tense. The blonde man from Paris, Emmett's accomplice, was named Jasper, a very quiet and calming natured man. My guard was still impenetrably unvarying but looking at Jasper's relaxed posture and lazy grin was disarming. The car was something of that between a normal minivan and a mobile home; six seats, three rows and doors on either side of the vehicle. Being with Edward for so long under such questionable circumstances made me practical. During the extended silence on the first leg of the ride I began mentally calculating chances of escape if such a course of action became necessary. Anything could happen, at any time; preparation of even the smallest amount could save my life with seconds to spare. There were two sliding doors on either side of the vehicle, manual locks. I would only have to lean over either of the girls on my side to reach the handles and if it came to it, pushing the girls off of the tight-fit seats wouldn't be a problem.

I was a fidgeting mess in my seat, constantly glancing out the window and curling my fingers and tapping my toes, keeping the blood flowing just in case.

"We believe you, you know. You can relax."

This floored me. My toes froze mid-tap and I stretched the skin over my fingers until you could practically see bone. I remained silent in hopes that he would continue.

"We know exactly what happened when you first met Edward at the base…"

"Base?" I interjected quietly.

"What you call Forks Crystal Cavern," he clarified. "He did a quick interrogation, according to his report, and after being ordered to silence you he refused and was thereafter seen as a rogue agent. Now, this isn't on file or anything, but he's told me that you are, without a doubt, completely innocent. Edward doesn't slack when it comes to judge of character so I basically have no choice but to believe him. And these two here aren't bad character references either, so you're clear through us."

I folded my hands in my lap and worried my bottom lip as I turned my eyes to the ground. Although I doubted he realized what he'd just done, Emmett just told me more information about Edward than my "husband" himself had in the entire expanse of time we'd been together. Agent, he'd said, like a spy or an infiltrator. He was British which meant he wasn't from the States and that did kind of explain his confusing questions when we'd first met.

"_I am not at liberty to reveal my name yet, _Cherie_. And I asked you first."_

_I told you already."_

"_Your name means nothing to me. Title?"_

"_What the hell are you talking about?"_

"_Don't play stupid, woman."_

"When Edward found you at the base he mistook you for a planted mole from an opposing organization," Emmett said. "He says that he never reverted to torture methods in sipping information from you but…" He stopped to run his hand over his jaw and looked me over with a look of disapproval. "I suppose if, at the time, he found it necessary he could have left a few details out."

"No," I said shaking my head quickly. "He never hurt me. I-I-I did these to myself," I added when everyone in the car, including the driver, turned a disbelieving eye in my direction.

"Okay," Emmett continued unconvinced. "In any case, Edward asked me and Jasper here to retrieve you from Paris and deliver you safely to Italy. We do apologize for how your kidnapping was executed but there are eyes and ears everywhere, Bella. We had to make the abduction as convincing as possible but, even still, I bet those bastards know who and what grabbed you before they could."

"Why are they after me? Did I…_do_ something wrong?"

"Oh crap. Alice give Bella your napkin."

I turned to Rose blankly before I realized I was crying. I took the offered cloth and dabbed at the streaks of tears under my eyes and apologized. I stopped noticing long ago when I was overcome with emotion.

Emmett shook his head and laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Americans watch a lot of television. Have you ever seen a movie or a series where someone was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time? That's basically your situation. This is all just one big misunderstanding that you should have no business in but, because of a few missing threads on our part, you managed to get stuck in something you have nothing to do with. Rose here can explain the details to you later but have you wondered why there were no maps drawn up for Forks Crystal Cavern?"

"That was you?" I guessed.

"Exactly. Any and all scouts sent to map the area or perimeter were planted agents with orders to either provide false notes or details counterfeited from another, unknown location. That cavern was off-limits for all excavation firms but somehow, one stubborn brunette managed to get a hold of the place."

"So, if you had people—agents—planted to keep FCC unrecorded then why was I granted the location? Was I set up from the beginning?"

"Like I said, there were loose threads on our part. The mole we had planted at the very top of your firm was killed on a mission and somewhere in between finding a replacement and getting the replacement to Washington you managed to get your hands on a permit. And no, as I explained, your being a part of this was a misunderstanding. While Edward kept you captive didn't you have a run in with a Mr. Black?"

"Jacob? Yeah, and Edward sort of blew his kneecap six ways to Sunday. What does he have to do with this?"

"Jacob?" Alice shrieked. "You mean m-u-r-d-e-r-e-r Jacob?"

"Murderer?" Emmett asked blankly?

"Jacob killed my fiancée," I explained through clenched teeth. Alice shrunk back into her seat and sent me an apologetic smile.

"Did he now? And he managed not to be convicted for this?"

"It's complicated."

"So is your current situation. Can you tell me a little more about this murder?"

"Um, it was a few weeks before our wedding, I was out on an excavation and when I got back home James and Jacob were having a confrontation. Words were exchanged, punches were thrown and then James was dead. I don't really remember much, to be honest."

"You do realize that you are a terrible liar, don't you? There are a shitload of holes in that story and lucky you, you only explained this to me and not my superior or you'd be dead by now."

I nodded with downcast eyes and tucked a pesky strand of hair that stuck to my forehead behind my ear. "Sorry. Um, can we talk about this another time? I don't really feel comfortable…"

"Of course," Emmett allowed amiably. "But you _will _tell me about it soon, right? Okay."

Alice took my hand into her lap and stroked my knuckles with gentle fingers. Had Alice and Rose not been in the car at the time I would have had no problem telling Emmett the truth—I had no emotional attachment to him. It was the two girls at my side whose safety I feared. The excuse I'd given him was entirely similar to what I told them and they believed the story without question, which worked out well in the end though I felt awful for lying to them. To Al and Ro, I was avoiding the truth of my dead husband-to-be, but, for Jacob and myself, I was keeping as many people out of my circle of fire as possible.

"So," I started, gracelessly changing the subject. "Why _are _Alice and Rosalie here? They have absolutely nothing to do with what's going on with me and I want them back in the States before they can get involved."

"It's not my place to explain that to you, and for that I'm sorry, but they know themselves. I would tell you if I could, and I'd also get you outta here as fast as possible, too. None of you belong here." Was it just my imagination or had his eyes lingered on Rose a second longer than was necessary?

Nonetheless, I didn't like this. When I had last spoken to Alice before going on the lamb, right before my foolish overdose, she had told me something that didn't sit right with me. It was like a big thick of fog was clouding my memory but something important was hovering just on the edge of the mist. Rose hadn't showed up to work for a few days and someone allegedly went to South America. What bothered me was the fact that I hadn't actually made the trip but someone claimed to have gone to partner up with me there. Who was it? Rose and…

"Angela!" I ejaculated in a quick burst of recollection. Beside me Alice started slightly and Emmett raised a questioning brow. "Alice do you remember when you told me about Rose not showing up to work for a few days?" I stroked my chin trying to make one coherent thesis out of the mass of theories in my head.

"Oh, you mean when you blacked out on video chat? Oh sweetie, I was terrified—what happened back there?"

"She blacked out? When was this?"

"This was after you had gone missing, Rose; otherwise I would have called you immediately. Me and Bella were talking before she just paused and started scrunching up her face. Next thing I knew she was screeching like an animal then threw herself on the floor. Well, you know me, I panicked! And then a few seconds later a man came barreling into the room and saved her but not before rudely shutting off the power to Bella's laptop so I couldn't see her anymore. That man!" she gasped in what was either a lungful of air or realization; really it could have been either one. "Bella, was that man Edward? The one with the funky hair?"

"Later, Alice. Emmett, what about Angela? The day Jacob came to kill me, the same day me and Edward left the cave, I told Alice that I was in South America on a dig. That was a lie, of course, but then Alice told me Angela was down there as well to help out. So what happened to Angela? I imagine that if she really did go down there for me she would have returned already knowing I wasn't there and obviously she hadn't. Did you get her, too? Is she here for the same reason as these two?"

"Oh," Emmett breathed indifferently. "That's what you were all worked up about? No, Angela's on our side. She was also a mole."

"Angela?" I asked doubtfully. Sweet, mute Angela? My second in command field supervisor? How is that even possible? "But Angela was more adamant about the FCC project than I was. How can she be one of you if she supported my request?"

"She was simply playing her part," he shrugged. At this, a sudden dull pang surfaced in my chest. "She wouldn't have been doing her job if she was constantly trying to turn you off of something you kept trying at. If she had kept trying to dissuade you there's no doubt she would have looked suspicious. That was particularly good judgment on her part.

"In her reports she described how she was becoming increasingly wary about you, however. I can't really fault her for that either. As many different places in the world you could have chosen as a project you kept sniffing at one in particular that just happened to be our American base. It was a little shifty, Bella."

"So that's why no one ever came after me?" I grasped quietly. "Why no one ever thought I was missing?"

"Yes. Angela was simply following orders. She was an infiltrator and nothing more. If there had been a need to take action she wouldn't have been able to. Her job was strictly supervision."

"I see." I was suddenly feeling very cold. I pulled my hands free and wrapped my arms around my torso, splaying out my fingers and only slightly started when my fingertips touched. She had been acting all along. Somewhere inside of me I felt like I'd lost someone very important to me but the glaring reality that that someone was just a fabricated lie was a bit disorienting.

"I thought she was my friend," I admitted aloud. I heard someone coo in my ear and a set of hands go at my back, rubbing soothing circles on my poorly covered skin. They didn't really help; only a certain set of hands would actually make a difference in a stupor like this.

In the back of my mind I registered how unaffected Rose and Alice both were about everything that was being discussed. I knew that they were pretty close to Angela, too, yet they seemed unfazed with the conclusion I'd come to. Besides not knowing who Edward was these two seemed to be pretty caught up with everything that was going on so far. How much did Emmett tell them up to this point? How long ago did I arrive in Europe? It was the 20th when I spoke to Alice last so the night of the 21st must have been when we boarded our flight making the morning of the 22nd our arrival date. We stayed up well into the morning when we reached the cabin so there goes another night and then another day and night spent in Marais making today February 24th.

I pitched forward suddenly, an intense wave of nausea encasing my throat. I threw my hand over my mouth and held my breath. This must have been what was considered internal whiplash. Had all of this really only happened in a few days' time? How bizarre.

"Bella, are you okay? Should Rose and I do something?"

"I'm fine, Alice," I said moving my hand, "just a little shock."

"You should get some rest before we arrive at our destination, Bella," Emmett suggested lightly. "I wish we'd stocked this car with provisions but I had no idea how unfed Edward was keeping you."

"No, I'm fine. But I think I will get some rest, thank you."

"Pull over, Garrett."

We all exited the vehicle save the driver as Emmett and Jasper pulled the back row of seats down into a makeshift bed. They even set up a blanket and pillow for me.

"I doubt it will feel like the Tempur-Pedic you Americans are always going on about but it's better than nothing, right?"

"Thank you." I seriously considered hugging the two thugs I considered evil just an hour prior but instead I settled for an awkward smile before simply crawling into the back of the van and burying myself under the coverlet. I was asleep within the same minute.

…

"Oh my God," I gasped. It felt like we'd been walking for hours.

"Don't worry. It's not as long a walk when you know where you're going," Alice promised.

"Why lie to her? Actually, it's a fucking maze everywhere you go and every room is like a mile apart," contradicted Rose as she grasped my hand. "But don't worry about getting lost here because we'll be with you every step you take."

"Welcome to Volterra, Bella."

Welcome indeed. After waking me when we'd come to a stop at our destination I was pretty sure Emmett somehow brought us back to the past what with all the castles and villages and whatnot that I saw—all of which being in looking distance. Volterra was something ripped out of an outdated history textbook. It was nothing less than a castle, complete with macabre looking towers, a decently sized moat with a drawbridge and even stone walls and guards at the entrance way. Surrounded by an active village with lively townspeople mowing about from one place to another you'd think we relocated to the 16th century.

I was shown no specifics on the way in, but Jasper accompanied the girls and I to a section of the fortress he referred to as "the apartments" while Emmett excused himself to take care of business. When we reached what was deemed my door, I was pretty sure that they took names very seriously here in Italy for what I thought would be a small room was actually a genuine apartment complete with a bathroom, a bedroom, and an open dining room-kitchen—stove, refrigerator, sink, dishwasher, the works. I insisted on something smaller but was floored when Jasper laughed and told me this happened to be the smallest room in the entire castle. He also implored me to refer to the castle as a house; as if this massive palace could be considered a house, but I consented.

"After you're all settled in I will come for you. There is much business to handle before you can relax but try not to think too much while you are here, okay? Take it easy for a bit, hmm? You're safe here. Under Edward's implicit orders I would readily put my life on the line to protect you during your stay."

Of their own volition I felt tears begin to well up as I looked into the blonde man's kind, cool blue eyes. "Thank you, Jasper."

He bowed slightly and parted with a smile, dragging an unwilling Alice and Rosalie along with him as they shouted promises to come back for me as well. I was thankful for a moment to myself, a moment to _rest._

I'd freshened up first, taking the longest soak I'd had in ages in a bathtub made for kings and queens. It was a deep turquoise tub wide enough for two or even three with a console framed in a precious stone whose name absolutely escaped me said to contain therapeutic properties. The adjustable showerhead was perfect for washing my hair and the soaps themselves were probably worth at least three of my paychecks. After a much needed lounge I brushed my teeth, combed my hair and opted for the bathrobe provided for me rather than the revealing clothing I'd come in. Casual clothes and a meal that made my mouth water were delivered to my door and I feasted greedily on both the main course and dessert before slipping into the jeans and long-sleeved shirt given to me. They didn't bring shoes but then again they couldn't just miraculously guess my shoe size so I just slipped into the ones I'd brought with me, wincing only for a second.

Jasper was back not too long after, bringing Twiddle-Dum and Twiddle-Dumber with him.

"So where are we going?" I asked after taking what felt like the umpteenth turn since we left my apartment.

"Our superior would like to have a word with you," Jasper said.

"Could you sound anymore creepy, Jazz?"

"Sorry, doll," he apologized throwing a wink at Alice. What the hell is this?

I gave a sidelong glance to Alice then to Rose who was looking to me the same and we both minutely nodded our heads.

"We're here now."

"No, shit," I muttered.

This was the most ordinatley carved door I've ever seen in my life. It had to tower over me at 15' high with a beautiful Brazilian mahogany face and a polished teak finish. The doorknobs were—what else?—solid gold fixtures that I didn't even want to touch. Whoever this superior was he wasn't selling Girl Scout cookies for a living.

"We leave you here. Meetings with the superior are absolutely private but we will not be far so do not go wandering off if your conference ends and you do not see us."

"Thank you, I won't. Oh, and, Jasper?"

"Yes?"

"Your accent, it's…its Italian but…not?"

He gave me a lopsided grin that reminded so much of another's then answered, "Yes, it is Italian, but it sounds strained because I am from Texas. Yes, I am American, but I consider this my home, I've been here so long."

"Ah, that explains it. Thank you."

"We will be back for you shortly."

With a deep breath I gently knocked on the fine wooded door, jumping back when its echo rang throughout the extensive halls, turning the knobs and stepping inside when a voice bade me enter.

"Please, have a seat, Isabella."

I did not look around, I did not take account of how spacious the room was, and I did not count how many men and women were seated all around me; I entered, I sat where instructed, and stared into my favorite pair of emerald green eyes that I'd grown accustomed to for the past 30 days of my life.

_He's here. He's safe. He's alive._

"Oh, Edward, she is even more of a vision than I imagined, but so frail. So, breakable."

I inhaled sharply and forced myself to look at the man who'd spoken. Atop of a grand set of stairs sat three men in gold encased thrones. The man who sat on the far left had grave features, tight eyes and a pursed mouth and deep brown hair that flowed long past his shoulders. To the far right was a fair-haired man with taut skin and revulsion in his eyes, his sneer. And between them was the one who'd spoke. His hair was deep brown as well but, this man, he had malice in his eyes and almost translucent, papery skin that set his gingery-brown eyes aflame. And to his immediate right was Edward, dressed handsomely in one of his fancy Gucci suits.

"Hello, Isabella," the man in the middle welcomed me amiably. "It is so good to have you in my home. How do you like it? Are your rooms to your liking?"

"Yes, thank you." As quiet as I'd spoken my words reverberated so loudly off the walls I might as well have shouted.

"Of course! Anything for the darling wife of my most prized operative. Come; let me have a look at you."

I rose mechanically and took each of the steps one at a time until I was just one step from being level with him. He stood slowly and took my left hand, kissed my knuckles, then tapped my fourth finger, the one with Edward's ring on it. I drew my lower lip between my teeth and threw a quick peek at Edward who was watching me with cold, calculated eyes.

"This is your mother's ring, is it not, Edward. Ah, it is as beautiful as a thousand trimmed forests. I am surprised you chose to give it to your second wife and not your first."

Hearing those words was like being belted in the chest with a blunt object but I hid my discomfort and gave a tense smile.

"You know my marriage to Tanya is bullshit, Aro. Please, avoid making my wife uncomfortable, won't you?"

My heart leaped minutely in my chest at hearing him refer to me as "his wife", stupid and masochistic as the word was when applied to me. Still, I had to contribute to making the illusion so I beamed proudly at my husband before withdrawing my hand, and taking yet another step back. This man made me so uncomfortable.

"Very well. Allow me to formally introduce myself, Isabella. My name is Aro Castrogiovanni, son and heir to Abramo Castrogiovanni, leader and head operator of the Volturi, and I give you my humblest of welcomes to Volterra!"

At this, the room erupted in a thunder of applause and cheers along with a few whistles. Aro raised his hands above his head and took slight bows in the direction of those surrounding us before waving his hands in a gesture that silenced everyone immediately. It was like a well-orchestrated band and this creepy, leering man before me was the conductor.

"Oh yes! These two at my side are Marcus and Caius. They will introduce themselves at another time. So that concludes the pleasantries; onto business!"

I returned to my seat at the bottom of the stairs and crossed my legs, sitting up tall in my seat and folding my hands in my lap looking the perfect picture of a demure, docile wife.

"Now, Isabella, we have a bit of a problem on our hands. Do you know what that problem is?"

I almost panicked. Almost. In my head I went through a bunch of different circumstances that would have involved me causing a complication to this man and came up empty. I had barely just met him. So, calmly, with a small shake of my head, I said in a strong, sure voice, "No."

From the corner of my eye I saw Edward purse his lips and duck his head for a second before reconducting himself; I fought the scowl from my face.

"It seems my brothers have _finir dans l'impasse. _Do you know what that means?"

"Yes."

"Ah, well Caius here believes you to be a liability to us because of your encounter with a Mr. Jacob Black. Edward shot him—do you remember?—and now there is a fear of retaliation. Now, we have the defenses and the people to keep such a scenario from playing out but there is always the possibility of an attack on my men, on my home. But, in your defense, Marcus here finds you to be inconsequential in matters of our political squabbles and believes you should be left alone. Alas, you see our ordeal—Caius wishes for you to be silenced immediately for causing a snag in our peaceful underground kingdom but Marcus says you may live, and I do not know who to side with in such a situation as this. So I've called you to help make up my mind. You have sixty seconds."

For what seemed like the hundredth time today I was caught immobilized. What was this? This was a decision on whether I should live or die? And this man, this cynical narcissist, wanted me to _beg _for my life? The urge to laugh was so strong I had to puncture my lip to hide my mirth. I would beg to _no one _for _anything _especially not for my life. If he made the decision to kill me then that was that and nothing I would say would suade him in any direction for he was simply toying with me. He had given me no particular information to work with and he just indirectly expressed his boredom; and what was more fun than deciding what to do with a life? Again, I chanced a glimpse at my husband who glared at me expectantly. He did not want me to beg, he wanted me to prattle, to appease and flatter this monster to win his favor. I could have vomited. In a gesture to remind me of my time Edward raised his eyebrow and cocked his head at Aro. I exhaled heavily through my nostrils and gave my host another dazzling smile.

"I am terribly sorry to cause such commotion in your beautiful home, Aro," I began, "and might I add embarrassed. I never meant to cause such disarray here. You see, Jacob is nothing more than a mangy mutt that need be put in his place, or, more preferred, in the ground, making his inconvenience suitable for the simplest task of creating worms' food. I am quite disappointed in my husband for not putting an end to Jacob's worthless life right then and there but I guess it cannot be helped. If Jacob's person is responsible for any impending attack I would gladly shoot him dead myself, so long as you keep me alive to do the deed." Just to add to my performance I fluttered my lashes and smiled prettily.

Hook, line, sinker.

If I was useless to him, a weakling who needed others to protect me, then Aro would have me executed on the spot. But if I proved I wasn't just another mouth to feed, that I had something to offer, then there was no doubt that he would keep me. A solid delivery here, a smooth compliment there, and I was practically guaranteed my life. How droll.

Aro studied me a moment longer before clapping his hands together and rising from his seat.

"I have come to a decision!" he proclaimed. "It seems that since my brothers are in such opposing lights I will have to be the deciding factor in terms of Miss—excuse me, Mrs. Masen's life!"

_Wait, what did he just say?_

My eyes snapped to Edward's to see him staring daggers at Aro's profile.

_Masen?_

"She lives!"

The room erupted in a standing ovation filled with whoops and hollers of varying different languages. I could barely concentrate on the fact that my life was just spared, only on the fact that Edward was, once again, lying to me. Eventually he had the decency to turn his eyes back to mine and I saw not a drop of remorse in them.

"Edward, you will show her the ropes of the place, yes? She rests today, tomorrow she will work for her keep but tonight, we feast!"

The room's volume didn't die down even a little; it probably got louder. Between arrogant bows and girlish wrist waves Aro dismissed me from his court to which I needed no other notice. I stormed out of the room maintaining the same amount of pride and dignity I'd presented myself withand stomped out into the hall with a quick pace.

I should have known I wasn't going to be able to get away from him fast enough but I had hoped.

"Bella," he called calmly, gaining footsteps on me.

I stomped harder, moved faster, practically ran down the hall to get away from him.

"Isabella!" He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me around so I was huffing breathlessly in his face. "Why are you causing such a scene?" he hissed.

"You wanna know why I'm causing a scene, _dear? _It's because my fucking husband has been lying to my face for an entire month!"

"Not now, Bella, not here. Let me take you back to your apartments."

"Don't fucking touch me, Edward, if that's even your real name!" I spat wrenching my arm from his grip. He released me but his face was cold—passive, distant, familiar. "And here's your fucking ring back." I pulled the jewelry from my finger and threw it at his chest where it simply fell and clattered noisily to the floor. "Our marriage is _bullshit_, too, so why act where it isn't needed, right? I can walk myself."

Something in the back of my mind knew that didn't go as smoothly as planned but it wasn't how eerily composed his face was or how still his figure was when I'd turned away.

No. It was the instant where my body was being held against the wall and my beautiful, livid angel was snarling down at me with his fist around my throat…

**Author's Note: **Whoa, I know. Damn, Punkii. Hope it was somewhat worth the wait and answers some questions out there. Until next time!


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note**: *DoubleGasp!* An update in only four days? And a long one! Well after 840 minutes and 7,750 words, yes! Yeah I remember when not updating in three days was strange for me and I'm trying to get back to normal chapter times so you don't all die of angst LOL.

Anyways! Thanks, of course, to everyone who's been with me this far and welcome to all of you new readers as well. I know it's been a while so this chapter is mostly E&B quality time before we jump into the hardcore stuff.

Venture on!

***RATED M FOR A REASON PEOPLE***

* * *

Chapter 19: Drunkenly Indulge

There were some events in life that seemed to change who a person was on both the outside and the inside; it was just that some events took such a toll on their mental state it tilts their entire world on its axis. Their appearance changes, the way they speak, the sound of their voice, their vocabulary, how they view you as a person—everything's different.

Where I was at this moment, who I was with, the position I was in, how I couldn't get a mere breath of oxygen into my lungs edgewise—my reaction to all of this—severely opposite of how I would have handled the situation one month prior. I _should _have been terrified, I _should _have been screaming out for help or prying his fingers from my throat or, at the very least, I _should _have wanted to get away from this man, this brutish animal who constantly threatened to take my life.

But I didn't do any of that.

I didn't want to do any of that.

I just wanted him to touch me.

_And he was._

Edward very rarely lost his composure in my presence, and, even farther in between, ever showed emotion—_raw _emotion. So it was to my amazement that I saw his eyes burn like jaded coals on a roaring fire, that his lips were curled in such scorn that his entire countenance seemed alight with a passion I'd never seen before. He was furious, he was murderous, and he was beautiful.

We stood like that for some time, me, body slammed up against the wall, him, glowering over me a scowl that would have struck any man to his knees. I really couldn't breathe; I hadn't really noticed I was so distracted but the small squeak that peeled from deep within my gullet notified us both that this needed to stop.

His fingers compressed for just a second longer before he released me and his arms went around my waist just as I was about to fall to the floor. He just held onto me as I caught my breath; he didn't move, he didn't ask me if I was alright, and he most certainly didn't apologize. I didn't mind in the least.

"I'll take you to your room," he announced after my heartbeat had slowed, taking a hold of my hand and starting down the hall.

I planted my feet firmly on the ground and pulled back on my arm, not enough to pull away, just enough to stop him from moving without dragging me along. He stopped but didn't turn and knowing he wouldn't I stepped around to his front, stood on my toes and pressed my lips firmly to his, just a peck, then wrapped my free arm around his waist and buried my head in his chest. I didn't expect him to hug me back, that wasn't the point of my gesture—I just wanted to assure myself that he was still here with me. I could feel his hesitance in the tenseness of his muscles but he did eventually put his arms around me as well. So long as I had this I wouldn't need anything else. Jacob could fuck himself; Aro could take his ostentatious castle and his dirty protection and shove it up his ass. Right here, in Edward's arms, I knew there was no place safer on earth.

It was thoughts like these, my reaction to particular actions like the one that had just transpired, that made me realize I was no longer the Bella Swan Rosalie and Alice had come to know and love, the Bella Swan who called her father every morning and went to work all smiles and laughter. I was Bella _Masen _—Edward Anthony's humble and submissive wife.

I clung to him for a few minutes longer before the chatter and noise from Aro's conference room began to slowly trickle and pour out into the halls. Edward peeled me back slowly, kissed my forehead, and then chauffeured me to my apartment.

He stopped at my door and it almost looked as if he was going to walk away but there was no way in hell I was going to allow that. With more vigor than I knew I possessed I grappled the arm of his suit's jacket, pulled the door open and hauled him into my flat, locking the door and leaning back on it so I knew there was no way he could leave without physically moving me.

"This is very childish of you, Bella" he said with barely contained amusement in his eyes.

I mumbled, "I don't care," taking the lapel of his jacket in my hands. I gave myself leverage by stepping on the toes of his feet, ruining his expensive fancy shoes. I slid my hands over his shoulders and up his neck into his hair, pulling the strands between my fingers and moulding my lips to his. His hands went to my back then down to my backside as the kiss quickly became heated. He hoisted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he navigated his way to my bedroom, an incredible feat since he was walking backwards. When he knocked into the fridge I could barely contain my titters. He pulled my lower lip between his teeth with a playful growl and I moaned as he slipped his tongue into my mouth. Eventually he'd given up trying to find my room and any flat surface would suffice. He plopped me down on the kitchen counter and brought his lips to descend with purpose, settling on the spot between my neck and collarbone before his teeth bit down on the flesh there, making me gasp and scratch my nails against his scalp. He continued to suck and lick at the skin beneath him until I felt the mark he was no doubt planning to leave. He kissed it, then my cheek and returned to my mouth, tilting his head to take and conquer as much as I was willing to give.

"I missed you," I admitted between kisses.

"I know you did," he smirked.

"You didn't miss me?"

"Perhaps a little."

I rolled my eyes and placed my hands on either side of his face, drawing myself back and raising a critical brow.

"Alright, I am pleased to see that you're still alive," he conceded.

"How romantic."

"You should know by now that I am not the least bit romantic, Isabella." He placed his hands on either side of my jaw and lifted the hair from my shoulders, focusing his attention on the tender spot behind my ear. I bucked against him as his tongue darted out to trace the shell of my ear.

This man was dangerous. Just a few minutes ago he was mere moments from choking me to death but here we were now, making out in the kitchen of some crime lord's apartments, me, mewling like a cat in heat and him, seducing me into a puddle of flesh. This was unhealthy—insane, really. There were men out to kill me and the only thing I wanted was _him_, the man who caused all this mess in the first place, the man who could command me and dominate me as if I were nothing more than a puppet. I was sick.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I have an illness."

"Not an STD, I hope."

"It's more of a mental illness."

His ministrations ceased for an entire heartbeat before his eyes turned to mine and he was suddenly very serious.

"Are you alright? Do you need to see a physician?"

"N-no," I muttered wishing I'd kept my damn mouth shut. "I just…"

Very slowly and making sure to hold my gaze the entire time, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, once, twice, then peppered small kisses across both of my cheeks, over my forehead and just as gently kissed both my lips.

"You just what, Bella?"

"Do you believe in Stockholm Syndrome?" I blurted. The second the words left my mouth I regretted them instantly.

He was completely unmoving for what felt like centuries and I flexed my fingers still knuckle-deep in his locks hoping he would say something, or at least move.

"That's nothing more than a myth, Bella." I shouldn't have said what I did—he was withdrawing now. He continued to kiss every inch of my face but I could tell by the significant loss of enthusiasm that this would soon be over.

I might as well milk it.

I needed to get something off my chest and I knew that if I didn't—and soon—it was going to start affecting me entirely, but how to approach it so he didn't retreat? If I just said it he would pull away, distance himself as much as possible and avoid me at all costs; that was just Edward. In a situation that might have been at least remotely similar to mine, how would someone else have executed this? Certainly not with champagne and a roaring candlelight; it would have had to been quick, straight to the point but tactical and leaving something to be desired, something that would require an equally revealing reply. Could I work that?

Who the hell was I kidding?

Romantic? Equivocal exchangement? Communication in general? Bullshit. We were all action no thought; we were moving first, asking questions second. Unconventional, insatiable, greedy, barefaced—that was me and Edward; there was no other way to put it.

"I have feelings for you, you know," I admitted unashamedly. I brought my fingers to the hem of his shirt, slowly tugging it upward so the lower half of his abdominals was fully exposed to me.

"Bella…"

"I don't need you to respond, Edward. I just thought you should know."

"You would think something like that," he teased kissing my neck.

"Do you know how funny it is to talk about _feelings _with you?" This was it; I was just getting it off my chest—no expectations, no amendments, no regrets. "It's like you shrink into your little hermit shell just at the mention of it. You would think I was telling you that I loved you."

And there it was. If he became any stiffer he'd be stone. He'd stopped moving completely so I'd just take over from here. I brought his head level with mine and pulled his lips to meet my own, moving them in a way that was bound to coax him to budge. He did; slowly at first but after a minute or two he was himself again—steering, sensual, and seductive. He was still a little flustered by what I said and it was quite apparent. I didn't want this to be awkward but I almost expected nothing less. Taking hold of the situation I grasped his hand and placed it on my upper thigh—the best way to evoke a semblance of normalcy between us was the idea of sex. That's how it'd been between us since day one; nothing's changed. I could feel my Edward return to himself when his long fingers wrapped around where they sat, could feel it in the way they tightened and released, in the way he angled his body against mine as if to relax me and claim me at the same time. He recovered more smoothly than I thought.

Me—I was light as a feather. It felt like I'd pulled hundreds of weights from my shoulders and my body was, for what felt like the first time, tranquil. I'd confessed, I'd made my move, and now all that was left was to await my opponent's comeback, and I was willing to wait as long as it would take.

"You are very good at distraction," he conceded against my lips in a husky whisper.

"I know," I smiled.

"I don't really know what to say."

"Then don't say anything."

"Bella—"

"Hush, Edward. Just touch me."

"Bella—"

"I want you," I breathed. "I want you." I pushed the jacket from his shoulders and lifted his dress shirt completely off his torso, leisurely raking my fingers down his solid torso as I kissed the corner of his mouth. He rolled his eyes—from pleasure or frustration I didn't know—and very roughly brought his fingers to the zipper of my jeans undoing the button and fastener, then slipped his arm around my back, pulling my body so were flush against one another, his hard lines against my softer ones.

Growing bolder by the second, I moved one hand from his stomach to pull his mouth back to mine. His lips were soft and wet, his tongue a velvet lash. I wanted his lips and tongue all over my body. His hands, too. They were strong and sure, confident. He moaned and the sound vibrated along every inch of my skin, arousing me to the point where I began rubbing my front against his for friction. He was aroused as well, terribly so, and soon gentle kisses and small caresses would not be enough for either of us. I swept my fingertips over his abdominals once more then traced the ridges of his hipbones before daringly dropping my hand into his pants and gripping his erection through his underwear.

The resounding gasp had come from both of us.

Now I was in no way a virgin—I'd had my fair share of a bedroom rumpus before but it has been a very, very, long time. I had never seen Edward's penis, let alone touched it. Maybe it was because I hadn't touched one in so long or maybe because it was just Edward's but I'd never felt a penis so _perfect. _And it was still in underwear! It was smooth and wide but stiff and soft, _big_ but not monstrous and—I flattened my palm and massaged the flesh experimentally—_very wide_. I raised my eyes to see Edward's teeth bared, his head thrown back and an intense look of concentration on his features. I tried my hardest to hide my grin of satisfaction and brought my lips to his throat, flicking my tongue out to graze his Adam's apple. He was like a statue; unmoving, unbreathing. I didn't know if he wanted me to stop but I sure didn't want to.

"Bella," he groaned. "Take it out."

"Take what out?" I asked playfully.

He said between clenched teeth, "Your hand," and I brushed my fingertip over the bulbous head of his member instead, earning a devilish hiss from him that made my toes curl.

"Bella, please." At this, I nearly balked. _Did he just beg me? Oh, yes he did. _

I wanted more, to be more brazen, to get more reactions from him, but his hand flashed down to his front catching my wrist and removing it from his pants before bringing it to his mouth and kissing each of my knuckles followed by my palm. I couldn't help but pout.

"I had to stop you or this would have been over fairly quickly, love. And besides…" He cupped my jaw in his hands and brought his lips to a hover just above mine. "I want to touch you first."

"What is this, kindergarten?" I ribbed impishly.

"What I plan to do with you isn't something I would teach to children."

_Hot damn._

He pulled my body against his and lifted me as I wrapped my legs around him, carrying me to the front room and depositing me on the small round table in the middle of the room, kicking the chair beside him so it fell raucously to the floor. I had to find out what his beef was with using a bed.

"The bedroom is just past that door, you know."

"No need for it, I haven't the patience. It took a great amount of strength not to just have you on those counters back there."

"So you plan to stand all night?"

"Is this going to be an all-night affair," he asked in a growl.

I broke out in gooseflesh in a heartbeat. "If you want it to be."

"I'm going to hold you to that," he promised gazing into my eyes. I tried to hold his gaze but it was almost too much. His eyes were something akin to molten emeralds, blazing and beautiful.

"On your back, Isabella," Edward instructed softly. Once I was situated, his hands seemed to massage my body in their pace and reverence—starting at my shoulders, over my chest, skimming my breasts, and down my stomach. With slow, deliberateness he hooked his fingers under the hem of my shirt and, instead of pulling it off like I wanted, drew his fingertips up my midsection and ghosted them across the side of my left breast, bringing the flesh in the center to pebble instantly. He repeated this with his other hand on my right breast, all without lifting my shirt, then, bending over me so our hips were aligned, took my cloth-covered left nipple into his mouth. The moan that fell from my lips was loud as his tongue peaked out to flick across my hardened nub. He cupped my breasts with gentle hands and tortured the nipple not in his mouth with rough pinches, and soothing, tight circles from his thumb. Every flick of his tongue and brush of his fingers was pure bliss that seemed to channel straight to the junction between my thighs. I ground my hips against him in a drunken trance, my head lolling off the edge of the table and my fingers clawing down Edward's back as he stimulated me far beyond words.

"Edward," I whimpered as a familiar burn surfaced in my belly. "I need you."

"And you'll have me," he breathed in my ear. "Just not tonight, love." He leaned forward, lifting the shirt over my head and pulled the jeans clean off my legs so I was in nothing but my panties, flinging the denim into a corner of the room. I bucked aimlessly as he centered himself between my legs.

He gripped my thighs with enough force to stall my surging hips then kissed my lips softly and said, "Relax, Bella. I'm not going anywhere."

I hooked my arms under his and held onto his shoulders, holding him to me and willing his words to mean something beyond this small frame of intimacy.

"You are beautiful." He dropped his head to my collar and sucked my nipple into his warm, wet mouth. My back arched into him and he held my body against him as he began to slowly rock his hips against me. My moans came unbidden when he brought his hand to the sensitive mound between my legs and stroked the bundle of nerves there. He pressed his thumb to this spot repeatedly as he stroked my sex with a firm touch. I rolled my hips against his, sweat beading my brow as my sobs of pleasure grew louder mixing with Edward's husky grunts. He took my lower lip between his teeth and pulled then covered my mouth completely with his, taking my every cry and giving it back to me with one of his own. I knew Edward was becoming as frantic as I when he began massaging my clit in tight, quick circles. His thrusts became harder, deeper somehow and impossibly faster as he drove his hardness against me, and I lifted my hips to meet his every stroke. We moved in complete sync as we both worked to meet the edge we sought for.

Just as I was about to come undone he pulled the fabric of my underwear aside and slipped his finger inside of me with no resistance at all. First one, then a second as he pitched against me, and when he curled his fingers to place pressure to the area where his thumb pushed down from the outside, I was finished. I bucked once more, stilled, and dug my nails into Edward's back as an intense wave of sheer ecstasy ignited in my womb and erupted to every limb and niche in my body leaving me in convulsions that shook me to my core. I scratched my nails over Edward's back and shoulders as I continued to milk my orgasm, grinding against him until he cried out and squeezed me to him as he stilled and let out a guttural moan that echoed throughout the entire apartment, then collapsed on top of me, burying his face in my neck.

For what felt like hours we simply lie there, mostly naked and holding each other. I scraped my nails over his scalp and lay my head atop his and he wrapped both arms around my back.

And then a slow lazy smile appeared on my face.

The fact that we just dry humped each other aside, Edward and I had never _ever _been this intimate and, I had to say, it was one of the most amazing feelings in the world.

"Edward?"

His voice was quiet as he hummed against me.

"I'm sorry for throwing your mother's ring."

"I forgive you."

"Thanks. Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry for scratching you."

He chuckled low in his throat and dipped his head to kiss the swell of my breast. "I don't mind; I can barely feel it."

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"What's your real name?" I asked in more hushed tones.

He sighed and his warm breath was moist against my exposed skin. "Another time, Isabella; not now."

"Okay," I acquiesced. I ran my fingers through his hair while I thought of more questions to ask, taking advantage of his unruffled peaceful state. "Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Did you…um…your pants?"

He laughed again and nodded against my chest. "Yes I did."

"Oh. Well do you want to…change or…clean up in the bathroom?"

"Not now, Isabella."

"Okay. Edwar—"

"Hush, Bella. I'm tired. Aro will be calling for us in a few minutes. Rest."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Um, this table is very cold."

He lifted his head and looked up at me from where he lay and he quickly stood and helped me up as well. "Forgive me. That was very careless of me. Come; put your arms around my neck."

I complied and he carried me to the front room near the door and lay me down on the deep red couch, joining me and holding me to his chest when I opened my arms for him. It was only a few minutes but they were the most comfortable few minutes I'd probably ever had. Our chests were flush with each other as he lay mostly atop of me and his legs entangled with mine though his feet dangled over the armrest. I twisted my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and he was content stroking my hair head to waist. Our cuddling was interrupted by a knock on the door and Edward sighed, kissed my forehead and excused himself to open the door. I took that opportunity to scamper to the kitchen and retrieve his jacket, slipping my arms through in case whoever was at the door wanted to come in. I peeked over Edward's shoulder as he opened the door. His broad, muscular shoulders…and perfectly toned arms…and powerful back…and gorgeous hips…_and that's enough, Swan._

Standing at my threshold was a pretty, tall woman with brown eyes and dark hair who smiled and waved before her eyes became aware of Edward's state of undress where her eyebrow raised and her gaze raked over him like he was a piece of fucking steak. I rolled my eyes and marched beside him, putting my arm around his waist and being sure to lay my head against his chest, raising an eyebrow of my own that conveyed something completely different.

She started slightly and cleared her throat, snapping her eyes back to where they belonged.

"What is it, Gina?"

"Hello Edward. _Mrs. Masen_," she regarded me quickly to which I grunted. "Aro wishes for you to join us in the dining hall in celebration of Miss. Bella's acceptance into Volterra. He expects you in no less than twenty-minutes as the party has already started. Alec sends his apologies for not having Bella's apartments properly stocked with clothing and the like. Would you like to have us send someone for your evening attire?"

"Yes and make it quick," he said coldly. "Twenty minutes to get dressed and return to the hall—that old, dying bastard is getting on my nerves. Go! Go!" he shooed her.

She bowed at the waist swiftly and Edward slammed the door in her face before she could depart. He seemed to be fuming as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger so I rubbed my hand across his stomach and watched him until he calmed himself and looked down at me.

"Celebration?" I asked quietly?

"Any excuse to get everyone in one room and have us drunk until we're blind. Promise me you won't have more than five glasses of wine. Make that four—you've lost a lot of weight."

"I promise."

"Good." He ducked to kiss my lips softly and then breathed in my ear, "I'm going to take a shower to cleanse myself of the smell of sweat and sex as well as disposing of these briefs as they are now soiled. You're welcome to join me if you'd like."

_Good lord, he wears briefs!_

I thought about it, I _really, really _thought about but I decided that both of us naked and wet in the shower together would lead to something far beyond its original intent. And, besides, we didn't technically _have _sex yet—we dry humped; there was no penetration at all whatsoever and I didn't want our first time to be rushed and sloppy. So, with a heavy heart, I declined and kissed him once more before he sauntered into the bathroom, dropping his pants and "soiled briefs" before even reaching the bathing area, teasing me.

He was showered by the time our clothes had arrived and with 15 minutes to spare I took a shower of my own—with the door closed unlike others—and got dressed in the bathroom, a little hesitant with the dress they'd chosen for me. Edward was in yet another of his expensive suits but this one happened to match what I was wearing.

"Blue looks good on you," he said smoothing out my wet hair.

"Thank you. I like your fancy suit," I returned.

"Mmm. Put your hair up tonight; your neck will look lovely with that gown." His accent seemed to come out tenfold just now. Sexy as it was, I had stopped noticing it until our early romp-fest.

"Are you sure you're not just trying to showcase my fresh hickey, Edward?" I teased lightly. He smirked but otherwise said nothing, going to the couch to hand me a pair of modest heels to go with my dress.

"Hurry up or we'll be late."

"Okay."

"Oh, and Bella?"

"Yes?"

"When Gina was here, did you notice that she was speaking in Italian?" he inquired seriously.

"Hm. I guess I didn't. Other languages just come so naturally to me."

"Noted. Try to pay attention tonight. No matter what, only speak English and if someone addresses you in another language pretend you do not understand them, do I make myself clear?"

I learned long ago not to question Edward when he gave such specific orders like these; they almost always saved my life, one way or another. "Yes."

"Alright then." I stood, wobbling only slightly as I adjusted to the new height of my shoes. Edward held out his arm for me and I went to his side immediately, clinging to him slightly, as if this came to me naturally, too. "It's party time."

…x…

The dining hall was as huge as it was beautiful, but what else was I expecting? The walls were gold paneling with brown stripes and solid oak boarders and on each wall there was a fragrant nimbus that hung from the wall candles. The table in the center of the room was massive and could probably seat 100 people if not more. At the chamber's epicenter was a grand chandelier adorned with sparkling white diamonds and I was sure the light's frame was solid gold. They spent money here so nonchalantly they might as well have been wiping their asses with it when they used the bathroom.

The place was packed; in every seat sat one unfamiliar face that could have been a potential killer. I didn't like being in a room with so many people, not before or after finding Edward, and in a situation where I had no other choice but to adjust I had my Ativan on standby. There was no Ativan here. My breathing picked up slightly and I felt as if a sheen of sweat was misting on my forehead so I swiped the back of my hand over my face to find no moisture. My arm was tingling so I scratched my nails over my right bicep and rubbed the spot rapidly until the feeling went away. Oh God, I was about to have an attack!

"Bella." Edward leaned forward to make eye contact with me as I bowed my head, darting my eyes around the room to convey my discomfort and he nodded. "You'll be fine," he promised swiping his thumb over my cheek. "Don't worry about them; we'll stay for an hour then it will just be us for the night, okay? We'll eat, we'll drink, and you'll humor Aro for a small time. You'll be fine, I swear." He kissed me quickly in reassurance and I sighed taking his arm again. I felt a hell of a lot better than I did a second ago. I could do this. The room was buzzing with energy and conversation that I was supposed to not understand. There was a decent amount of laughter coming from a large area towards the end of the dining hall and when they spotted Edward and me near the door a cheer of greeting was shouted over to us. They were already drunk.

Edward pointed out Aro at the north end of the table and to both of his sides were two sets of the only empty seats left, no doubt for us and another pair. We made our way over to our places and Edward didn't sit until pulling out my chair for me and making sure I was comfortable. He was such a gentleman.

"Ah, Edward and Isabella, I am so glad you could join us! I was beginning to think you would not come. Isabella, you do look lovely tonight; Edward hand-picked that dress from Tanya's wardrobe himself."

I winced but gave the old fart my best smile regardless. He wouldn't be fully "entertained" tonight until I was wringing his skinny little neck, the mind-fucking bastard.

"Actually, Aro, Tanya bought that piece _for _Isabella upon my request. She was just holding onto it until the occasion arose that Bella could use it."

Aro's face seemed to ashen a bit before he laughed and clapped Edward on the shoulder, then waved a busboy over to fill our glasses, shooing him off when the task was complete. Food was served with the wine, a dish of creamy risotto and mushrooms with salad on the side. Edward reached for his fork immediately while Aro found the bottle of wine between the three of us.

"I do think you will enjoy this, Isabella. It is our starter wine of the evening—_Bacio del Vampiro, _a Barberesco wine grown in the Langhe Hills of Piedmont where I have a very rich and successful vineyard. Drink up, tell me what you think," he commanded.

I picked up my glass and just touched the flute to my lips, regarding Edward over the rim. He looked disdainful. Was Aro trying to get me drunk?

I swished a drop of the wine in my mouth and swallowed loudly, taken aback by the strong, almost bitter taste. "It's so…"

"Full bodied?" he finished for me.

"Yes."

"This wine has been aging for thirty years in an oak drum in one of my storage cells in Tuscany. With thirty years of softening can you imagine its strength when it was mixed? Oh well, it is a bit too strong for your American tongue, though, is it not. Eat; the food complements the drink tonight, blends the flavors dramatically. Not to mention you could use as much food in you as possible. You're so thin you almost look skeletal," he laughed.

"That's enough, Aro." Edward looked at his superior with warning in his eyes and then to me. I smiled tensely and hunched in on myself a bit, picking up my fork and filling my mouth to avoid conversation, though Aro was doing most of the talking—or insulting—by himself anyway.

The old man sat up straight in his chair and took a long pull of his glass before wiping his mouth with a napkin and turning fully to me. "Forgive me if I caused offence, Isabella, but you look to not have eaten in weeks. None the matter, this feast will put some colour in those cheeks again, I swear it!"

The rest of our starter was accompanied by a pregnant silence until our plates were removed and replaced with another dish as well as a different bottle of drink. Of course, Aro was first to strike up conversation.

"Our main dish is Gemelli with zucchini and Italian sausage. The best wine to balance out the peppery meat is, a personal favorite of mine, _Bevanda di morte_, a Barolo wine even stronger than the Barberesco. Have a bite of your food and drink this. Is it not delicious?"

This _was _delicious. The wine was powerful and full-bodied like its cousin but this had the distinct taste of wild strawberries, tobacco, and vanilla. I think I tasted chocolate in the mix as well. It was so good I got carried away, having three glasses of this alone throughout the meal. If I wasn't loosened up before I was now. The room was alive with chatter and laughter and I found myself giggling into my glass at a few jokes that were proposed in Italian though I was supposed to hide that I even comprehended them. I opened up a bit more with Aro as well, though I enjoyed his conversation far less than I let on. There were few moments where he even made a few funnies that made me throw my head back and break out in a cackle. Edward made no attempt to converse with us though I tried to pull him in with a few, "Isn't that right, dear's" and "did you hear that, honey's". He just sat back, nodded, and kept count of how many glasses I tilted back.

"So that was when I told Marcus, 'those aren't women, they're jackals, you buffoon!'"

I slapped the old man's shoulder lightly and chortled senselessly. The joke wasn't even funny; I was just _that _drunk.

"Oh, come now, Edward—you had to find that appealing."

"Very amusing," my husband mumbled sarcastically as he took another bite of his food.

"Lighten up, Edward," I chastised over my glass. "Have another sip of wine and relax."

"Oh, you've had enough wine for the both of us, _dear_. Believe me, I'm alright."

My lips bowed into a straight line as I glared across the table. Such a dick.

"Don't mind him, Isabella. He never indulges in the simple pleasures that we weaker humans do. This is my well-oiled machine," Aro proclaimed proudly, slapping a hand on Edward's back.

"Yes, well, this well-oiled machine needs rest. How about you tell Isabella all what you need to tell her so we may take our leave. Time is money."

I was going to ask Edward what the rush was for when Aro suddenly sobered and folded his hands on the table. "Perhaps your right, my boy. Your wife is extremely entertaining; I was blindsided by her company," he chuckled. "Now, down to business. Isabella, this feast is your welcome into my home, the formal welcome. Being a resident of Volterra, there is a policy that all must live by and that is, 'to have a bed and a hot plate means to have responsibility', otherwise known as working for your keep. Do you have any beneficial skills?"

I pursed my mouth and blew a big raspberry, and then laughed because the noise I'd made was hilarious. With all the wine I consumed this sudden 180 change of topic had my head reeling. I sucked air into my cheeks then blew it out again, trying to find some focus. I took another sip of wine to help get the brain juice flowing. When I came up empty I turned to my husband who looked as if he was in pain as he watched me. If I asked him what Aro meant would he yell at me? I didn't want him to yell at me; I didn't like when he was upset. So instead I opted to asking Aro himself to repeat the question.

"Ohhhhhhh, yeah I got a talent. When I was in middle school, I was in a talent show and my dad Charlie and me did an act where I juggled baseballs and he would toss grapes in my mouth. We were hella good," I slurred slightly, "but we got third for some reason. Guess who came in first? Fuggin' Jessica and her dancin' hamster! I was like, 'that ain't a talent!' but we lost anyway so, yeah. What were we talking about again?"

Both men stared at me for a long time then Aro burst into a fit of chortles, bending at the waist, pounding his fist on the table and holding his head in his hands.

"Er, Aro I think my wife has had enough excitement for one night," Edward started as he prepared to stand. "You can discuss her terms of living here tomorrow; she isn't even intelligible at the moment."

"No, no. This happens tonight. Drunk or not, she hasn't been _inducted _into my home yet and I will not have a stranger in my bed. Now, Isabella, what skills do you possess?"

"Well I can—"

"She can cook and clean. I'm sure you have plenty of open positions in the kitchen for her, especially during the day."

"Fair enough. Does she have any skills in a garden?"

"Well when I was younger—"

"Not at the present but if someone is willing to teach her she is willing to learn. Anything else?"

"Does she have any experience with a handgun?"

"Whaaaaaat? No, I—"

"She doesn't need to know that but if the need should arise I will teach her myself."

"Then that concludes any questions I had. A schedule will be set up for her tonight and she can begin work as soon as noon. Do either of you have any questions for me?"

"No, we'll be leav—"

"Actually, I do," I interjected quickly. "Misser Aro," I slurred, "do you mind telling me why Alice and Rosalie are here? And why they're not _here _at my party. I wanted to ass' you that earlier but I forgot."

"Oh." Aro picked the napkin up from his lap and hid his mouth as he took a bite of his food. "They are what you would call an 'insurance policy' on you in the event that you are not who you say you are or you happen to be dead weight in my sailing ship. Snd they're off somewhere with the physician. Who cares what they're doing?"

"Insurance?" I balked. "The hell do you mean 'insurance'?"

He sighed and suddenly looked as if he were very bored of my presence. "It is exactly what it means. If I find that I cannot trust you I will kill your dear friends, and then you. Will that be all?"

So he brought Rose and Alice here as detainees for if he didn't like me? He was _using _my friends to get to me?

"Why you Sonuva—"

Edward jumped up from his seat to retain me when I stood to slap the shit out of the wrinkled asshole at my side. Aro didn't blink, spearing a piece of pasta on his fork and casually popping it into his mouth, completely ignoring me as he stared down the table.

"Let it go, Bella. Come on; it's time for us to leave."

"But he—"

"_Let it go_," he stressed in my ear. "Your friends are untouchable so long as I say they are. He won't hurt them."

I stopped flailing and took a deep breath, puffing out my air and straightening my dress, then picked up my glass and returned to Edward's arm. As we departed Aro called out for us.

"Everyone!" Aro shouted over the fray multiple times to get the hall's attention. "Everyone, please, shut up! I propose a toast! To Mr. and Mrs. Masen! To their marriage that will last as long as they both shall live! And to our newest resident, Isabella! Cheers, _mio caro!_"

The hall erupted in hoots and hollers all directed at me and my husband, and as he carried me out of the room I threw the remnants of my glass back then tossed it to the ground where the sound of its shattering was drowned out by the inebriated patrons behind us.

…x…

I giggled as Edward lifted me out of my dress and removed my shoes from my feet.

"Please?" I sang sweetly. "Come on, Edward, please?"

"No, Bella. You're drunk and tired. Let's go to bed now, alright?"

"Noooooooooo!" I hugged his head to my naked chest and squealed when he lifted me from the wooden chair and carried me into the dark bedroom. He pulled the covers aside and dropped me on the plush bed in the center of the room. He tried to tuck me in but I flailed and kicked the covers down impatiently, then sprawled and beckoned him with the crook of my finger.

"Come on, Eddie, I won't tell. Pleeeeeeeeease?"

"No. Enough, Isabella. Stay still and lie back so you can go to sleep."

"But I'm not tired!" I insisted.

"Well _I _am. Stop making this difficult."

"I WANT TO HAVE SEX NOW—"

Edward fixed his hand over my mouth and stared me down until I acquiesced and stopped squirming. When he was sure I wouldn't move he pulled the covers up to my chin and went to the other side of the bed before dropping down and kicking his shoes from his feet. He had removed his jacket when we came through the door but he kept everything else on. Scooting over to his side of the bed I pressed my front to his back and reached my arm around him then trailed my hand down his abdomen to his pants before he caught my wrist half way.

"I said 'no', Isabella" he said through clenched teeth.

"Please, Edward?" I breathed in what I thought was seductively in his ear. "I'm naked, you know. All we have to do is take off my panties and all your clothes and we can have _sex_! Pleeeeease?"

"_Enough _with that, woman!" he groaned exasperated. "Will I have to sleep somewhere else tonight, Bella? Hmm? Is that what you want?"

And then I began to cry.

"No! No, please, Edward. I promise I'll stop, I'm sorry." I kicked the covers down again and crawled over Edward's unmoving body to snuggle on top of him. "I'm sorry, okay?" I whispered rubbing his shoulders. "I'll stop now, I promise."

He sighed and rubbed his temples with his pointed fingers, his eyes closed in complete concentration. "I _told _you not have more than five glasses of wine, but no, how many glasses did you have?"

"A lot," I muttered, guilty. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't get you sober. And you'll really be sorry when you wake up tomorrow."

"Stop treating me like a child."

"Then stop acting like one."

"I'm not! Stop being such a dick!"

He pushed me off of him and stood at the foot of the bed, slipping his feet into his shoes one by one.

"Where are you going?"

"To Tanya's room," he replied coldly. "She knows how to hold her liquor _and _keep her mouth shut when I want to sleep."

I sat up, pushed myself back against the headboard, and put my face in my hands and began to blubber like I _was _a child. Why did everyone compare me to _Tanya_? Like she's miss fucking perfect or whatever.

"Edward, I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I'll leave you alone so you can sleep, I swear. Don't leave, okay?"

He sighed heavily, then grunted, then began shouting in French as he gripped his hair in his hands. He paced the room with long, quick steps then stopped to shout some more at nothing in particular. What was wrong with him? I'd never seen him so distraught.

I wiped the moisture from my face and rose from the bed, going over to where he stood muttering curses under his breath and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind. I let him fume silently for a few minutes in the dark before apologizing again and blaming my insolence on my alcohol consumption.

"I know," he said quietly. "I'm just so _very _tired. Do you understand that, Isabella?"

"Yes," I said into his back.

"I just want a few hours' sleep, alright? Can we please go to bed?"

I nodded and released him then took his hand and led him into the bed with me where I pulled his shirt off and tossed it near the door so he could be more comfortable. I lay my head on his chest and he put an arm around me as well and the room was silent for a very long moment as we both unwound for the night.

"Edward?" I whispered just as I drifted into sleep.

"Hmm?"

"This was my favorite day spent with you, you know. I'm sorry for ruining it and stressing you out."

"You didn't ruin it." He rubbed my naked back and kissed the top of my head. "I've just never dealt with drunken Bella before."

I smiled. "Well you're always sauced, remember? So I would never be able to tell the difference with you."

He chuckled. "I suppose that's true."

"G'night, Edward."

"Goodnight, Bella. Pleasant dreams, love."

I dozed off effortlessly in his arms. When I awoke in the morning with a pounding in my head and a foul taste in my mouth I knew he was gone and the small notecard with elegant script on the front of it with my name was all I would have of him for the next few weeks.

_Try not to get killed._

* * *

**Auhtor's Note: **And there you have it! What was up with Edward before he left? How is Bella going to take it? Why is Aro such a dick? Stick around for the answers on the next installments folks! Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day I wrote my first story on FanFiction! 365 days going strong! Adios!


	20. Chapter 20

Author's Note: Hello, all! Happy 2012! I anticipate everyone enjoyed their holiday hiatus because I sure did. I hope everyone is in good health and ready to take on the New Year with a smile! Alright, now down to the nitty-gritty.

WARNING: FROM THIS POINT ON PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION

I say this not because of content but because of the direction of the story. I STRONGLY ADVISE everyone go back a few chapters and skim because everything changes from here. Let me just say, _everything in this story has a meaning and a reason, _and if you at all got tripped up or confused in the past I recommend you go back to whatever part of the story this was and reread a bit before continuing; not to say that will be explained here but it will be eventually. Some of you will come out of this chapter confused, some awed, and others with the blatant WTF-face, but I swear my intentions are good.

Now then, if you're confident you know what's going on in the world of Stockholm Syndrome then please, by all means, _venture on._

* * *

Chapter 20: Absorb and Shift

_Change of plans. I'll fix this. Try not to get yourself killed._

I groaned and slapped a hand to my forehead. He was just as cryptic as always. I wouldn't beat myself up pondering what this meant. He was gone again and he'd told me nothing therefore I would no longer concern myself with the matter. That was how this relationship worked.

If there were ever a time that I wished that Edward and I had never left the cave back in Forks, this would be it. Behind my eyelids was an intense orange light that made me cringe and my forehead throb. I sunk back down into the pillows after reading the small notecard Edward had left for me and threw the comforter over my head, curling into a little ball and just praying for sleep or death or something in between. In a few minutes time the pain died down in small increments but it was hot as balls under the blanket. I groaned loudly in frustration and threw the cover off of me where it flew into the air and landed on the end table to my right. A lamp shook on its base and a glass of water crashed to the floor and shattered on the now wet and sopping carpet.

"Oh shit." I pushed off the bed and began collecting the glass on my knees, cursing loudly for the second time this morning as I sliced the palm of my hand. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I muttered power-walking to the bathroom, careful not to drip blood on the floor. As I ran warm water over my hand there was a knock on the front door. "Come in," I hollered.

"Bella?" Alice called tentatively. "Where are you?"

"Hey, Al. I'm in the bathroom. Watch your step in the bedroom, okay?"

"What the hell happened in here, Bells?"

"Just me being me," I mumbled bitterly. "Can you lay down some paper towels for me? I cut myself."

"Sure." She bounded into the bathroom, kissed my cheek and observed my hand from over my shoulder. "Oh jeez, that's a big cut. You gotta get that patched up. We'll go see Dr. Carlisle after you wash up." She unrolled a few sheets of paper towels and went back out to clean up my mess, being more careful than I had been to avoid glass.

"Dr. Carlisle?"

"Yeah, he's the physician of Volterra. He's really smart and has like a shit load of degrees. I was going to take you there today anyway; Rose and I think you're bat-shit and Esme really wants to see you."

My limbs stiffened and my heart seemed to stop before galloping at a break-neck speed. "Esme? Esme's here?" I demanded for clarification.

"Yes. I thought Mr. Aro or even Jasper would have told you _that_ by now. Yeah, she and I came together. She didn't even care what we were being brought here for; she was just so worried about you that she didn't ask questions."

That bastard brought sweet, dear Esme into this entire mess, too?

I pursed my lips and opened up the medicine cabinet over the sink, finding a packaged toothbrush and a container of toothpaste. I ripped open the package and sighed when the plastic dug into my injured palm, then recoiled as the smell of my breath hit my nostrils.

"So where is she? Esme, I mean, and Rose. Why didn't they come with you?" I asked before setting at the task of brushing my teeth vigorously.

"Well I'm not sure why, but Esme was having a panic attack this morning when she went to the kitchens for her breakfast. Collin, one of the chefs in the back, had called for me to go get her and I brought her to the doc hoping he could calm her down. She was yelling and crying and the entire episode was just unsettling for me." Alice paused to bring the wet towels to the garbage and her voice was quiet as she continued. "Obviously, I was concerned but I couldn't stay any longer than I had. Seeing my mother like that was heart breaking, you know? I was helpless and I couldn't do anything for her. I told Rose that I had to get out of there and she promised not to leave Esme's side. I came straight for you because if neither Rose or I could calm her down, then you were the only one left that could."

I rinsed my mouth and returned the toothbrush and paste to its cabinet before spinning on my heel and pulling Alice into a tight hug. I sympathized with the girl, I really did. There was nary a time that Alice ever felt useless and even rarer still that Esme lost her cool so I knew this was killing her.

"Stop fretting, short stuff. We'll help your mom in any way we can, okay? She'll be fine so cheer up. All this melancholy is bad juju for my hangover."

She laughed and patted my hair then pulled back a little to give me a smile. "Thanks, babe, I needed that. You ready to go?"

"Sure am."

"Great. But, maybe you should put on some clothes before we leave your apartment. You're sort of naked."

…x…

In a very morbid, close-minded way, I was sort of glad that Alice and Rose were here because if I was made to traverse these halls by myself I would likely have been lost for days on end. The physician's quarters were located in the west wing of Volterra, otherwise known as the hospital wing and as Alice lead the way there she made a point of showing me all the rooms in between. From what she was saying it sounded like there were not only a lot of tenants here, but a lot of council rooms as well, not to mention rooms that were blocked off, guarded by thugs or just creepy looking in general. If I were to base what I was seeing off of knowing Edward alone then I would bet money that Volterra was a headquarters for some shifty business. Aro himself had referred to this place as his "peaceful underground kingdom", and although he also said this was his home, not many normal people running respectable businesses have to worry about their homes being attacked. I shared my thoughts with Alice who shrugged but nodded all the same.

"You're probably right."

And that was all she said.

I raised my eyebrow, waiting for her to perhaps finish her statement but she never did, instead returning to point out rooms to me as we walked.

"None of this bothers you?" I pushed.

She sighed and ran her hand over her spiky head. "What do you want me to do, Bells? What do you want me to say? Do I approve of this? No, I don't, but there's nothing I can do about it. I'm not getting myself involved in anything because none of it involves me. Emmett and Jasper promised that we could leave here as soon as things were back to how they should have been, and Rose and I believe them. For now, we're just going to go about our business as if normal and bide our time until they give us the green light. If you keep your pretty nose out of things that don't concern you, I promise you could learn to like Volterra."

My steps jerked then stopped altogether as I watched Alice continue to walk down the hall. When she noticed I was no longer by her side she turned and tilted her head, asking what was wrong. Looking into Alice's sweet, innocent face as she approached me, my heart lurched and stuttered in my chest.

I fell to my knees and held my head in my hands, staring blankly at the cream tiles beneath me as I struggled to catch my breath. I heard Alice shout something then her hands were on my back, shaking me.

"What have I done?" I moaned desperately. "What have I done? What have I done?"

The chant spilled from my unmoving lips over and over as tracks of salt water trailed down my cheeks and trickled to the floor, a hymn that reverberated off of every wall and surface that surrounded me. I hunched in on myself, no longer able to support my own weight and crumpled to the floor as wracking sobs shook my body.

"What have I done?" I cried. "What have I done? What have I done?"

Deep in the recesses of my mind I realized that my mantra wasn't only an avenue to approach my guilt but a plea for information, for answers, for forgiveness.

"What have I done?" How could I endanger my friends like this?

"What have I done?" What did I do to deserve this hell?

"What have I done?" I'm sorry, so sorry! Sorry, forgive me!

Aro had no intentions of letting my friends stay, of letting them live here. Or letting them live anywhere. He was going to kill them. And then me. All he needed was a reason.

A fresh wave of tears broiled over as I screamed my hate in no general direction. This was all a game to him, to Aro. Not once did the thought of letting me live cross his mind and his bringing my friends here was a way presentation to show what happens when someone like me interferes in his world. He would wait until Edward killed Jacob, until everything was back in whatever order was present before I was brought into his business, then execute first the girls then me in as flamboyant a display as he could manage.

My wails remained unremitted as guards were called to carry me the rest of the way to the hospital wing. I didn't lower the volume of my cries even as the man holding me pulled me away from his body as he walked. If anything I got louder. I was before long dropped down onto a mostly uncomfortable cot and being touched and prodded by the man I speculated was the doctor. He asked me plenty of questions. "Am I alright?" "Can I show him where it hurts?" "Why am I crying?" "What _have_ I done?" To each query I gave an ungodly howl and eventually he decided that I was just upset about something and that a few moments to myself would do me just fine. My hospital room was full of blurry faces and unfamiliar shapes and one by one they all filed out of the door as my physician shooed them away. For that I was somewhat grateful: I was making a spectacle of myself.

The sudden and fierce backlash in my chest was enough to halt my thoughts as they were and the tears and howling to break off into a hiccough. I didn't deserve to feel coy about how I was making myself look. People _should_ be watching me warily, they _should_ be throwing me curious glances and indifferent stares, and they _should_ feel aversion towards me. So, in as uncouthly a manner as I possessed, I lifted my bottom and turned my back on the crowd of people watching me, dropped down on the tissue covered cot beneath me and stared at the planted cattail that sat in the corner of my room, unseeing, unhearing, unfeeling, but thoughtful.

I can fix this. I know I can.

I have to.

Besides my dad Charlie back at home and my gypsy mother who traveled around the States with her husband, Alice and Rose and Esme were the only people I had in my life. There was at one point a time I would have counted Angela as one of those people but our relationship was based on lies and deception; I did not know her, just who she pretended to be.

Behind me I heard the doctor speaking though I paid no attention to what he said. He spoke for a brief moment then came to my side to feel my forehead. He left for a few minutes then returned with two pills and a tall glass of water, as well as a package of graham crackers before exiting again. When he didn't come back for more than five minutes I sat up to consume the pills and snack and resumed my position on the cot.

The pain in my chest cloaked the throbbing in my skull for the time being and thinking straight was now a tad more feasible than before. By now I'd come to terms with the situation for what it was—Aro was going to kill us. The good thing about all of this was that just knowing this snippet of information was the hardest part of finding a way out of this mess; it only got easier now.

I had learned many things during the time I spent with Edward, and one of those things was that if I could somehow figure out the direction in which trouble began to sprout then he was definitely aware of the danger before I was.

That must've been why he left me.

He knew what Aro was planning and the only reason he would leave me here alone to fend for myself was if the solution lied outside of Volterra. What was he planning?

I felt somewhat comforted by this logic, but pain still ebbed deep within me as I thought of Alice, Rosalie and Esme. They were here because of me, taken from their lives to be held as insurance because of my poor decisions. It was right then and there I swore I would make this up to them; how, I was not sure yet, but I would. I wouldn't dwell on the details just yet. Until our safety was assured, my main focus would be getting the girls back home. Although Edward was doing what he could to help, this was my fault so I would do whatever I could to get the girls out of here.

After half an hour of staring at the potted planted at my side I felt my headache begin to subside, and after another half an hour of intense review I thought it time to reassure Alice I was not dying.

The hospital wing was probably the biggest damn hallway I'd ever seen in my life. I stepped out of my door warily and clung to the walls as I shuffled to the opposite side of the lobby. As I reached the reception I saw Alice and Rosalie standing at a door behind the desk. Beyond them I heard whimpering, a desperate sound that made my heart ache. That must have been Esme.

As I maneuvered my way around the counter and waved off the woman sitting there I wrung my fingers nervously. Was Esme crying because of me? Was she upset because she found out why they were holding the three of them here? Did she blame me? I would imagine that she would. Who else would there be at fault here? I lay my hand over Rose's shoulder lightly and pressed my palm into Alice's back so she moved further into the room.

There, with a tear streaked face and hiccoughing cries, sat the woman I very nearly considered my own mother. Esme sat on the edge of an elevated bed, her legs dangling over the edge as she hunched over on herself, as if there were an invisible weight attached to her back. I stepped further into the room and the blonde man sitting in front of Esme finally took notice of me. He must have been the doctor; I remembered the sound of his voice from when he was helping me in my bed area. He was speaking kind, soothing words into Esme's ear as he pat the back of her hand and rubbed her lap, right above her knee.

"What's wrong with her?" I whispered to Rose who shrugged with a look of defeat on her beautiful features. I turned to Alice and she shook her head sadly, not having an answer herself. "Doc?" I called quietly.

"How are you, Bella? Did the medicine help you any at all? Is your head better?"

I nodded and took Esme's other side, pulling the foldable chair up close to her bedside so I could pat her back. "I'm fine, thank you. You must be Dr. Carlisle; Alice told me about you."

"Yes, and Edward has told me about you," he smiled kindly.

I jumped with a start as Esme's wails suddenly become ferocious, the pitch of her cries causing a bubble of static to form in my ears. I lift my free hand to press a finger into my ear canal and prevent further possible damage. I looked to Carlisle quickly, my brow furrowed heavily. He sighed and the force of his strokes on Esme's legs worried me a bit.

"She has been like this all morning. I have no idea why she is so flustered; she won't answer me when I ask her questions. She was not like this yesterday, not at all, and she spent the entire day in my office, helping me tend to my patients. I saw no indication of unhappiness in her manner yesterday but now…" He stopped his efforts in comforting her and rubbed his forehead instead. If she was like this all morning I imagine he would have a bigger headache than I did.

Alice and Rosalie excused themselves to the kitchens with promises to bring back coffee for us and Carlisle and I continued to console my dear friend. I don't think I had anything to do with her current disposition; I had been sitting in this room with her for an entire 40 minutes and she didn't even seem to notice I was here. So what was her beef? Maybe she figured out, just like I did, that they were here to be executed. Esme was a smart girl; ruling out the possibility that she discovered Aro's intentions wasn't wise because she very might as well have. I considered asking her this but I could not do so with Carlisle here. As nice a person as he was, he still worked for the asshole in charge and any little thing I said could have been taken as a threat, only speeding up the process of our execution.

"So, Bella, I hear you're a bit of a wild card."

My head snapped up quickly and my eyes found the deep blues of the doctor's. He smiled amiably at me and sat up in his chair to cross his legs. It would be rude to avoid his conversation but I had no interest in making new friends at the moment.

"Just a little, I guess," I responded indifferently.

"That's not what your husband says."

"Edward?" I didn't mean to raise my voice, and I paid for my poor decision as Esme began howling again. "He said something about me? Do you know him well?"

"I do," he nodded. "Actually, I prefer to think of him as my son."

"How do you know him? From how long ago?" I erected myself in my seat and brought Esme's hand into my lap. Dr. Carlisle was yet another person who knew the real Edward. It would be mediocre of me not to ask him any and everything he knew about him. Finding out information about my husband was like solving a very difficult puzzle. I needed to see the picture before getting an idea of what I was dealing with, and then I needed individual hints and clues to connect point A to point B. So far, I had point A. Edward's name was not Edward Anthony. In fact, I speculated that Anthony was probably his middle name; but Masen was his last name. Edward Anthony Masen—this fit him. It had a very classic, old timey feel to it. Point B, I knew I would receive from Carlisle.

"Oh, I've known him for a while now. I remember when Edward and I first met; forehead darn near sliced open, 10 inch gash in his arm, the look of pure apathy on his face. I'll tell you one thing, Bella—he's not the same person who walked out of my office six months ago; he's changed. Even when he pretends to feel nothing I can see the difference you've made on him—it's all in the eyes."

I shook my head vehemently. "I doubt any modifications involving Edward are due to me, doc. So how long have you known him? Where did you meet?"

"It's a bit of a long story," he warned lightly.

"Don't worry about it; I've got time."

Carlisle got to his feet slowly and posted himself up against the door frame, a look of concentration on his features. "Hm. I do believe it has only been five years but it feels much longer than that. I was on a trek through Siberia on a string of medical rescues at the time, and I remember my wife being one of the victims in this particular mission which was why I volunteered to go. Such a warm, sweet woman she was, and I recall going half insane thinking of what happened to her. It was mole operation so I thought I had nothing to be worried about and though the details were disclosed, of course, I still worried about her. I stopped in a small pub in the heart of Kemerovo a few hours after departing the Siberian Express. The temperatures had just reached below ten degrees when we saw the city's border and pushing forward onto Prigorodnyy, our main destination, was a death wish, so we settled for a quaint inn near the city's outskirts and prayed the weather would lift soon.

"I couldn't sleep that night; the only thing I could think of was leaving those poor injured men, my beloved wife, for another night, out in the cold. It was quite literally freezing, and based on the description I received from Marcus, the hospital wing's director, the men's injuries were fatal. I tossed and turned in my little cot for hours before I couldn't take it anymore. So I brought myself down to the opposite side of the inn where the bar was. Russia was quite famous for their tonic and what better way to knock myself out than getting drunk?" He gave a wry chuckle then sighed as he looked up to the ceiling.

"I drunk about two whole bottles straight, worried off of my behind that I would not be able to save Irina and those men only a few miles away, that they would die if I didn't get there soon. I thought of those men's families, their friends back at home—all the people that I would be responsible for explaining how their loved ones died to. And then thinking about never seeing my wife again, well it was terrifying. I was just reaching for a third bottle when a mysterious figure sat down beside me. He looked as if he was freezing even though not a shiver ran through his body, pale blue skin and all. He ordered a drink in Russian, took a big swig from the bottle, looked over at me, then said, 'You look like hell.'"

"And then what?" I prompted quietly from my perch. I didn't know how to explain it but I was mesmerized by Carlisle's compassion somehow. I mean, obviously doctors are supposed to care about other people's health—that's what they are paid for—but this man seemed to do it genuinely for the people. I had seen it in the way he comforted Esme, too. His hands were gentle against hers, and his touch on her back was firm but reassuring. This man was truly good, through and through.

"And then I looked over and I saw a pair of empty, bright green eyes. They were completely devoid of anything, barely a sign of life in them. But that was when I noticed the blood practically pouring down his face. I asked him about his injury and do you know what he did? He shrugged and said it was just a scratch, a scratch that covered his entire forehead and down to his chin. With so much liquor in my system I'm not sure how I managed to speak clearly enough to tell him I was a doctor but I did. Soon enough I had the poor boy lying in my cot almost naked as I cleaned his wounds. He had taken a gunshot to the side, a few of his ribs were cracked, the side of his face was hanging on to the rest of him by a thread and he dislocated his knee. How the boy managed to simply meander into the bar, sit at the stool and calmly order a drink was beyond me.

"I spent the remainder of the night desperately trying to sober myself and making sure Edward was comfortable. The sobering was obviously the hardest as Edward never once complained of being distressed. I made sure I gave him plenty of medication and even saw to it that one of the other doctors I brought along on the trip could watch over him when I needed to excuse myself for a black coffee or two."

"I have to say, that was one of the longest nights I'd ever experienced—Irina was the only family I had— but if I had never met Edward I know that it would have been much longer and much harder on me. It was the heart of night when he actually started speaking. I thought that his injuries would keep him quiet for a lot longer, maybe even for a few days if he went into shock from the cold, but he was talking after about two hours of rest. He told me that he was part of the convoy that left for Prigorodnyy after a bit of prodding and persuasion on my side and that he knew exactly what happened at the site.

"According to him, something that should have gone smoothly went terribly wrong; people got hurt, lives were lost. Among one of them was my wife, agent Irina. When I asked Edward of her condition he looked me square in the eye and said, 'She's dead. If it's any consolation she died painlessly; I made sure of it myself.'"

"He did what?" I gasped. "Carlisle, he…" I trailed off, stupefied, at a loss for words.

"Yes, he did," Carlisle nodded. As I began to apologize, to feel a heated stream of ire toward Edward, Carlisle began to shake his head.

"In no way am I angry or upset with Edward for what he did. In fact, I couldn't be more grateful. I am glad it was at his hands rather than someone else's. Has he told you anything about Volterra, about Aro and his brothers? Himself? No? Well then, I'm not sure just how much I should tell you. Regardless, you seem like a very trustworthy girl so I'm sure I won't regret this. So what do you know, Bella?"

"Nothing," I replied honestly. As I said this I shook my head, still quite annoyed at Edward for his diffidence in dancing around this subject. Why couldn't he be more like Carlisle? There was obviously no blood relation between the two as they looked nothing alike but it was in their manner itself, the unconscious grace that they each possessed that one could recognize some sort of bond between the two, the palpable mystery in them.

"I'll keep this simple then. Wouldn't want to start something I am unwilling to finish," he chuckled wryly, and for a moment I almost didn't want to hear what the doctor had to say; Esme was right here, right beside me. Whatever I heard she would hear too. I peeked at her from the corner of my eye to see if she was at all interested in Carlisle's information and was caught between relief and woe as I watched her rock herself back and forth as she mumbled under her breath. I sighed and nodded at the doc to begin.

"Let's start with the basics then. This is Volterra, the head and nerve center of an underground kingdom called the Volturi, a trade conglomeration that imports, exports, transports and relocates anything and everything you could possibly think of. From mediocre things such as baby dolls and electronic trains to nuclear weapons and heavy artillery helicopters, we've handled it all.

"Now before you go thinking that we're like any other corner store or vehicle transporter consider the Volturi as a twin of both of those things, but multiplied by at least fifty. The only difference between us and them is that what we do isn't exactly legal. Or ethical.

"But the Volturi is only one of many underground circles that run in the trade. Before he, Edward, departed early this morning he told me everything that happened within the past month, between you and him. I understand that you had a run in with Jacob Black."

"Yes," I nodded quickly. "Edward shot Jacob's knee off," I mumbled, this seeming to be the only memory I have from our last meeting.

"Yes. And he also tells me that you are aware of Jacob's involvement in the trade business."

"So what you're telling me is that Sam's business and the business you have running here are the same?"

"Similar, yes; congruent, no. There are revolving tiers in this business, you see, a certain cycle of importance. The circle with the most power, the most wealth, is the top tier, and below them is the runner-up circle, and so on and so forth."

"I'm so confused," I mutter. I lean forward to fold one leg beneath me and poise the other on the small nub on the bottom of my chair, drawing in on myself. I just wanted to curl into a little ball and fall asleep, hide myself away from all the madness that was this world I now live in. It was too much for me; it was too much for anyone as far as I was concerned. If Esme had come to half of the deductions that I did in the time she's spent here I wouldn't have been surprised that this was the state she was in. It would drive anyone insane.

"Think of it as a growing neighborhood. In this neighborhood is three to five different pizza stores, each with different resounding qualities. One has better prices, another has more workers to create and serve more, faster, and another has the best taste. Volterra would be the pizza store with fastest distribution. Now the fact that all of these stores are all located in one neighborhood already keeps things complicated, but what makes it worse is that all of the people in that neighborhood only flock to the best two. This creates indignation between the restaurants; he who is left out is the most bitter. The third chain will do anything to keep their business afloat; slander, defamation, sabotage. Violence." Carlisle paused after the last word to give me a significant look but I shook my head, lost.

"I'm sorry, doc. I don't mean to sound like a bitch with you but what does this have to with anything?" I sigh. "We went from talking about Edward to your wife to tiers and circles and pizza. I don't understand any of this. Be blunt with me because I know you know what's happening here. What the _fuck _is going on?"

"Climbing to the top of these tiers has never been an easy thing, and the fact that the Volturi has reached second in command of these levels means that we've stepped on a lot of toes and pissed off a lot of people to get here.

"My wife was killed by Sam's business as a covert agent during a transport through Prigorodnyy. Edward was a part of the faction that was attacked and it was not until then that violence between our two parties that we considered Sam to be a threat. We know better now.

"I saved Edward's life that night, and since then the bond between Edward and I has grown stronger by each day. It was Jacob who killed Irina, and Edward also confirmed that Jacob was his attacker as well. I had no desire for revenge, what's done is done, but Edward feels that he is indebted to me somehow and is dogged in his pursuit to not only take down Jacob Black, but to eradicate the third tier, Sam's business altogether. What strikes me as odd with that boy is that he has no regard to his health at all whatsoever, that he could care less that he was moments from death himself but the only reason he gives me in his persistence is that _I _was wronged."

"In this game, it's all about life, death, and who comes out as top dog. Though Edward has no desire to claim the power that this life entails for his own, he is determined to come out on top. His priorities have shifted and I am fairly sure that this is because of you. He seems to have a solid purpose now, and he is nowhere near as reckless as he used to be and I know whatever happens in the near future, it will spell out success for him." Carlisle moved from the door to position his chair directly in front of Esme and me, then took my hands and leaned in close so only I could hear his next words.

"Edward is going to save you and your friends. I am not sure how it will be done but you can count on the fact that he will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I have faith in my son and I know he will see this through to the end."

"Oh, Edward."

And then I froze.

Because those words were not Doctor Carlisle's.

_And they were definitely not mine._

Slowly, blankly, I turned to fix my wide eyes on the broken woman beside me, on the words that just flitted from her mouth.

"What did you say, Esme?" I whispered tensely. "What did you just say? Tell me."

"My Edward," she sobbed, "my dear, sweet Edward. I love him, I loved him, he's gone. Gone, gone, he's gone."

I heard Rosalie and Alice's return but could not muster the strength to acknowledge them. My focus was on the woman whom I loved dearly's bowed head, her words. _I love him, I loved him, he's gone. _

And it is then, at that moment that I piece Point C to Point D that everything tilts, that Alice leans beside me, that she turns to smile at my stare…

_That I see the misted green in her grey irises…_

And then…

And then…

I had no words.

There was nothing for me to say.

I was stunned to silence.

_And I saw everything differently now…_

_Because from here everything would change…_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yeah…so…shit gets real from this point on, js.

Until next time, all!


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Weary and Weeping

_There is just no way._

"Bella, are you okay? You look like you just a saw a ghost."

_They were related._

_Some way, somehow or another, Edward, Alice and Esme were connected…_

_By blood._

_Look-y here; more shocks, secrets, and surprises!_

"I'm fine," I muttered, straightening in my chair. I closed my eyes briefly to get my bearings then turned to Rose to give her a neutral smile. "Got my java?"

She hummed in assent and placed a warm paper cup in my outstretched hand then turned to Carlisle to give him his, glancing back at me once with concern before finding a spot to sit. With my lips at the spout I regarded Alice over my cup as she pat her mother's leg and spoke sweet and slow to the sobbing woman beside me. I couldn't look away from her eyes. The green in them was unmistakable now; they were swimming all around the edges of her pupils. Once you began looking for it, it seemed to be right in your face. Other than that there wasn't much else similar between her and Edward. I sniffed and turned my gaze to Esme next. Her head was bent low over her lap but I didn't really need to see her to recall her appearance.

She was beautiful. Warm grey eyes, a short, straight nose, modest chin, long brown hair, bowed lips; she looked nothing like Edward. Where Esme's features were soft and pleasant, Edward's were sharp and hard. Lowering my cup from my mouth I rested my elbows on my knees and pursed my lips, recalling the conversation about his family that we'd had when we were last in Forks. Edward told me his mother left him when he was only seven, about her debts and his aunt's drug problem. But knowing this wasn't enough to disprove Esme of being his mother; it was what he first told me: _she didn't love him. _I've known Esme ever since I was a little girl, pigtails and missing front teeth, and I knew Esme loved _everyone_, especially her own flesh and blood, and when Esme loved she loved pretty damn hard. The mere thought of her abandoning anyone was just blasphemous. No, she couldn't be Edward's mother. But she _did _know him somehow…

_How?_

"Who's Edward?" Alice perked up. I hadn't known how silent the room was. I hadn't paid attention to how quiet Esme's cries had gotten. I certainly didn't realize that I was muttering most of my thoughts aloud. I wondered exactly what I said verbally, and then recognized it must not have been something important, something with a trigger, if Alice wasn't really paying attention.

"Wait, isn't Edward that guy you were with, Bella? The douchebag that made you look like that?"

I felt my eyebrows knit together over my forehead as I looked at Rosalie. What does she mean "look like this?" There was nothing wrong with me. She must have been talking about my weight; everyone seemed to be recently.

"Oh! You mean Mr. Asshole! _He's _Edward? Well then! Carlisle here has been steaming him up like he was some type of saint. He did _that _to Bella and you still think he's the best thing to ever walk this earth, Carlisle? Humph!"

Ignoring the jibes directed at my husband I turned my head to regard the doctor. I was so preoccupied with my own speculations I failed to ask what Carlisle knew about any of this. He claimed to be Edward's father; that meant he knew a hell of a lot more than I did.

But looking at Carlisle's face now, I didn't think he knew any more than what I came up with. His eyebrows had come together and his eyes were squinted as he faced the back of Esme's head. It was as if he were trying to crack the world's most difficult code but getting nowhere. I see we would have to have another long little chat later. No objections here.

I was actually pissed off.

Exceptionally.

He was keeping _more _secrets. Wonderful!

"Bella?" I turned my eyes lifelessly over to Rose's and I raised my eyebrows in acknowledgement. "Gina caught me on the way here and asked me to remind you of your chore schedule. It's being dropped off to your room now."

"Okay," I nodded. With a groan I got to my feet and made a show of bending backward to stretch my back. "Well then, I guess it's time I mosey on out of here. Doc, it was an _incredible _pleasure meeting you, really. We have to talk again soon." I opened my arms a little in askance and Carlisle smiled kindly as he stepped into my embrace and pat my shoulder.

"It was quite an experience, Bella. I'll be dropping you a line after you're all settled in here." He'll pulled back to give me a meaningful look and I nodded minutely, confirming. As I stepped around Carlisle I placed my arms awkwardly over Esme's back in an attempt to hug her huddled form. I wasn't going to bother with words; but, silently, I made a note to myself that I had to get Esme alone somehow.

"Oh, Bella, did you get your hand checked out? Don't forget why we came, woman."

"Bella?"

"No, it's fine Alice, really. Don't worry about it Carlisle, it's nothing. Look, it's already healed and pretty and pink, see? Come on, let's go. See you later, doc!"

…

"This is bullshit."

"Stop complaining, Swan. You know what Charlie always says."

I rolled my eyes as I recalled my dad's patented choice of ethics in the house. Seeing as how he was so keen as to let everyone who stepped on his porch in on the rule I wasn't surprised when Alice piped in to recite it with Rose and I.

"'_You wanna eat my food, then you wanna cook it. You wanna drink my water, then you wanna work yourself up a thirst. You wanna shit in my toilet, then you wanna clean it afterword, too_.'"

"This seems fitting for you, Bells," Alice chirped. "You have the same responsibilities from back in Forks, right? And no one can get down in the kitchen like you can. This is your particular brand of work!"

I grumbled unintelligibly to myself and rolled over onto Rosalie's lap as I stared down my work schedule, as if I could somehow rearrange the letters on the paper into something more favorable.

The walk from Carlisle's office was long and treacherous. As the girls and as we approached my door we saw the woman who visited Edward and I the day before standing outside my room, waiting for me. I stepped up to her with narrow eyes as she handed me a parchment rolled into a tube, my mind still replaying the way she stared down Edward as if he was a piece of meat. If I was being honest I was being a bitch. I snatched the paper from her hands and snapped at her as she asked me how my day was going on.

"Mister Aro is very much aware of your lack of wardrobe and has bid me tell you that he is working diligently to acquire clothing from the most prestigious brands for your convenience. The wait will not be much longer, he says, and we will have everything in your apartments by late noon. Have a wonderful afternoon, ladies."

"Bitch," I muttered at her back.

"So I'm just supposed to show up in these places at the time given to me and I get instructed once I'm there," I ask for clarification, swatting away images of Gina tied to a burning stick.

"Basically," Rose nods, "and all you have to do is make a call in advance and someone will show you where you need to be."

"How long have you two been here that you know how this whole damn system works?"

"We've only been here for a few days really." Rose lifted my head briefly to pull a pillow on her lap then let me settle again. "Let's see. It was…the 21st I think when Emmett and Jasper came for us."

"Came for you? Like, went to your houses and kidnapped you?" I couldn't hide the edge of panic that marred my question. I hated to even think the girls believed they were in any type of distress. If Emmett and Jasper's abduction attempt was anything like how they came for me I would likely faint.

"Oh no, not at all," she assured with a wave of her hand. "Emmett came for me just as I was leaving to go to work in the afternoon—"

"And Jasper came for me an hour before. Well, really they both had come for me at once and I was a little anxious about it but they were totally nice. They asked me a few questions: 'How am I? Have I noticed anything extraordinary around the neighborhood lately? Has a new face showed up at all around me?' and then they told me there were a group of terrorists targeting the area around where our homes were. I panicked. A lot. But they guaranteed me that they were evacuating everyone as fast and discreet as they could so, of course, I hadn't resisted at all. First we went for Rose, and then we went to get Esme because she lived a little farther away. Oh, you know where, Bella. Anyway, once they explained everything to those two we were chauffeured to the airport, to another airport, and then Volterra, and three or four days later here we are."

"Geez, thanks for saving me some of the story, Al."

"Be quiet over there. You weren't even awake to tell some parts. Anyway! Before we shipped off we made a little pit stop at your neighbor Lauren's house on a housecall from Charlie, so your dad's taking care of your cat. I thought you would care to know…that and the fact that Lauren wants an extra 300 big ones for holding onto Cheesecake for a month. What a bitch. Can you believe her? Ugh. Charlie paid for you in any case so don't worry about her. She's safe and sound, the little fur ball."

"You couldn't even save me the piece about Bells' cat, Al? Really?"

"You can suck it."

_Incredible, _I marveled, ignoring the girls' bickering.

They literally didn't know _anything _about what was going on here. For whatever reason, they were told that Forks—_Forks—_was being attacked by terrorists...and they believed it. For a long minute I just clenched my eyes together and crinkled my forehead, struggling not to want to shake my head for the general idiocy portrayed in this situation but also not looking the gift horse in the mouth. In a way, this was the best thing for the girls and Esme too, if Esme hadn't caught on already. The less they knew, the absolute better, and now I found myself thankful to Emmett and Jasper or Aro or who the-hell ever came up with the lie. It saved me the trouble, at least.

"So…How do you guys know about Edward?" I asked carefully, treading shallow waters, not wanting to seem to push the subject but also not avoiding it.

"Well Emmett told us that he went on a solo rescue to get you himself then…" Alice stopped to narrow her eyes at me with a loaded stare. "Then they told us that this Edward character went rogue and decided to give you to the terrorists as a peace offering but changed his mind at the last minute to get you back and bring you here, and that's why you went missing for two weeks. Are you okay? I hate to say it Bells but…you _do_ look awful. I can't imagine how that must have been for you."

_Aaaaand here is where the gratuity turns into the desire to square up…_

I could only imagine how mystified I looked at that moment.

_Peace offering!...?_

There was no use going against it now; what was said was said and though I'd love to smack _someone _upside the head I just had to grin and bear it for the time being.

"Oh, that, no, I'm fine. I'm fine. Yeah…what a crazy…week…that was, huh? So tell me," I rebuffed quickly, wanting deeply to change the subject, "what else did they say about Edward?"

"Oh not much else except that…well…you're _married _to him now."

I could nearly taste the energy shift in the room. A bitter tang of acid crawled up the back of my throat as I felt daggers pierce every inch of my skin. Small tremors rolled up the back of my neck and down to the tips of my toes as I glanced between Rosalie and Alice, their wrath a hot tar to light the fuse of ire directed in my general direction.

"Is there anything you want to tell us, _Mrs. _Swan?"

I knew that there would be nothing I said to take the heat off of me from here on. They knew now; and though some of the information they had was pretty left-field, it saved me a greater deal of trouble I would have been faced with had I been the one behind the fabrication. So, with the resolve to carry out the hand I'd been dealt with, I lowered my eyes, jutted out my lower lip, and mumbled a small, "Whoopsie," to express my embarrassment.

And immediately prepared for the firing squad.

"'Whoopsie' my short, peace-loving ass, Bella! How could you not tell us about this, Bees? Something as monumental as you being married?"

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal," I shrugged.

"Well, it is. We're hurt, Bella. We almost feel betrayed. How do you think we feel having to hear news like this from Emmett and Jasper and not from our _sister_? We were so worried about you, you know. The least you could do was find a pay phone and let us know you're alive."

I sighed as I pulled away from Rosalie, from her words, and got to my feet to find the phone in the kitchen. I placed an order for some food, plenty of liquor, and requested a pack of the stuff I claimed to despise. My request was fulfilled in minutes and I purposefully avoided returning back to the bedroom while I waited. As everything was brought in I wheeled the cart into the congregation room and returned to my spot at the headboard, a newly opened carton of Gitanes in tow.

"Eat what you want," I sighed, a cigarette dangling from the side of my mouth as I reached for the pack of matches on the cart. I sparked a light, lit my cigarette, pulled and sighed, my shoulders sagging and my head lolling back onto the carved wood as I looked at Alice and Rosalie's shocked faces.

"Since when do you smoke?" Alice inquired blisteringly. It was more like a screech, in any case.

"Since now," I exhale.

"You haven't smoked since college, Bella," Rose chuckled to herself. "And even then you had a hard time getting the swing of things."

"You mocking me, Blondie?"

"I might be."

"Hmph. Well you can suck it."

The silence that followed was not awkward but charged with unsaid words, a tension that was alien to the three of us, and a tension that made me feel guilty. Was I apologetic? Of course I was, granted for a completely different reason than what they knew of but I was nonetheless. I was sorry for creating an atmosphere that we three had no experience in; an atmosphere filled with unspoken truths and secrets and lies.

But what made it so uncomfortable, what made the silence seem like a screaming, crackling entity was the fact that I had no idea what I was lying for, what I was lying about. _Who _I was lying for…

Who was I lying to protect at this moment, because it certainly was not myself. Was it Aro and his shady business, the happenings that were executed so cunningly and quickly that anyone could be fooled? Or was I protecting Edward, the man who seemed to be my everything for so long?

I didn't know, and the thought of leaving such thoughts unanswered left me more misplaced than it should have. The girls wanted answers. _I_ wanted answers.

But none of us had them…

_Why?_

_**xXXx**_

A day passed.

Then two or three…

Before I knew it a week had gone by.

And then another…

And another…

And another…

And I hadn't heard from Edward once.

I hadn't heard _of _Edward once…

The day that I had first met Carlisle, the day that Rose, Alice and I had reached a silent impasse, was the last day that I can fully recall holding onto the delicate shell I'd clung to for almost a month before letting go of it completely. After that, after my girls came to the conclusion that some conversations were left unarticulated, all of the little pieces of my life slowly began to fit back into their places.

I had not thought of Aro all that day until I received a call from him in the early afternoon, discussing with me that a contract was to be put in place to finalize my position in his home. I could sign it whenever I pleased and even up until now I made no haste in having that particular task fulfilled as it required Mr. Aro to be present. I would hold out until I couldn't put it off any longer. What did he care so long as I was working for my stay?

Just as Gina said, clothes were delivered to my room that very day, a huge assortment of various garments that I refused to go splurging in, despite Alice's protests, were piled into my bedroom where a closet the size of my home in Forks was revealed to me.

I had many a visit that evening as well. Emmett and Jasper stopped by my room to see how I was faring and eventually they ended up camping with my girls, paying witness to every unfamiliar face that knocked on my door subsequently and waving having already known their names. Collin the chef introduced himself first, then Tyler a bartender, Lily the groundskeeper, and Garrett the chauffer whom I met the day before made appearances. Honestly, there were so many names and faces appearing and disappearing that I was lucky enough to remember a fourth of the people who were kind enough to come visit me. At first I believed they were ordered to acquaint themselves with me, learn my face so if anyone caught me in an unfavorable location they could snuff me out then and there, but Emmett assured me that the people of Volterra were a very interconnected group of people, that everyone knew everyone.

Gina was the last one to properly introduce who she was and this was done whilst giving me a proper tour of the castle known as Volterra. She was, for lack of better words, the head bitch in charge of most all things that occurred under Volterra's roofs. If someone was dying she was in charge of ordering headstones, if a bathroom was missing toilet paper she made arrangements to have the entire grounds' bathrooms stocked with Charmin toilet tissue. Jasper later pulled me aside to let me know that she was essentially Aro's left nut.

Made sense to me.

After the tour Gina left us in a clean, quiet wing of building 4, also known as the Human Resources wing. The fact that HR had an entire damn hall to themselves barely shocked me seeing as how so many people worked and lived here. The kind woman in charge of my files was named Paige and she was _very_ American. She talked a lot, asking me about how I was liking Volterra and what my plans were for once I settled in. I didn't really have any answers for her so I just smiled a lot and told her I would see once everything was as it should be.

Emmett, Jasper and the girls followed me around like little lost puppies all that day, claiming that they had nothing better to do. I didn't really care but they were all pretty loud when they got together, and even more destructive than disruptive. If we ever passed a quiet hall Emmett made a show telling a dirty joke and the girls were his damn hype men as they laughed boisterously at him. Jasper would chuckle quietly to himself which I didn't mind, but he would completely one-eighty my thoughts every time he elbowed me into Alice, wanting me to put in a good word for him, like I was some kind of cheap love guru.

Bottom line, they were all Jackasses.

The schedule I was given left something to be desired. I didn't know what to expect when the word "chores" was constantly being thrown around in reference to everyone's task list, but every day chores that would be performed in a normal, functioning household was the last thing I was expecting.

**Wing C.**

"**7:30 – Kitchen Prep and Assistance**

**9:30 – Dining hall A **

**9:00 – Wash Room**

**10: 00 – Service Floor 1 & 3**

**12:00 – Leisure**

**13:00 – Service Floor 5 & 7**

**14:00 – Lang. Course**

**15:30 – Dismissal**

Cooking, cleaning, and apparently I was being signed up for a foreign language class. The words were right there, on the back of my tongue: "_I don't need this._"

_No matter what, only speak English and if someone addresses you in another language pretend you do not understand them, do I make myself clear?_

"Do you have any concerns with your timetable, Mrs. Masen?"

"I don't."

My attention was wholly undivided as I saw her eyes narrow in the slightest. But of course, everything _was _a test after all.

"Very good," she smiles, the experience of her years in this position nearly beaming from her careful expression. "Your language course is located on the seventh floor as well, and I am sure Alice and Rosalie will have no trouble showing you the way themselves. As explained, your leisure time may be spent however you please so long as you stay on the grounds and you are prompt to return to your next station. The tour ends here." She bows at the waist fully, smiles, and takes my face in her hands to kiss both of my cheeks, which took to reddening almost immediately. "I pray for your continuing service to a worthy cause. Have a pleasant day." And then she's gone.

Leaving me stranded God knows where.

Stiffly I twist my torso around to see Emmett shrugging and Jasper chuckling into his palm, the girls simply fawning over the boys and having no interest in a tour they already participated in.

"Can you believe she just left us here?" I asked incredulously. "Man, what a bitch."

"No worries, we'll take you back to your apartment."

My impression of Emmett and Jasper had been drastically altered on that day as well, as if I was seeing them for the first time but also as if I was catching up with best friends from the past. Somehow, they both just seemed to fit into my life, just like Alice or Rosalie or Esme; simply, easily, naturally. Emmett was like a brother that Renee refused to give birth to, a younger one though he was two years my senior. He was the most flamboyant card in the deck; loud, obnoxious, but so very sweet and caring. I found very quickly that I would be using Emmett as my personal shield here in Volterra. He was so accommodating, so ready and willing to keep me comfortable for any circumstance that I could scarcely resist taking advantage of his kindness.

And then there was the ever present Jasper, Papa Bear as I had fondly begun to refer to him; revering him more as a father figure than a brother. It took a few more tries to warm up to him than Emmett, but once I had, once the bond began to grow, it was almost impossible to resist loving him. Jasper was so easy going, so temperate that I had begun to gravitate towards his calm nature. It made me uneasy at first, his quietness, but after some time he gradually seemed to become more of a presence, made an effort to reach out to me. What I loved most about Jasper was the aura that surrounded him, that anesthetic wave of calm that pulsated from his very pores and permeated my skin and thoughts, lulling me instantly. He was so valuable, so indispensible in that month that passed me in an instant, that once I had pushed him away I was made to despair over my actions.

Carlisle was another easy addition in my family. I made a point to catch up with him any time I could, including sacrificing my lunch breaks to occupy his office for an hour. Such kindness was so rare that I cherished every minute of our time together. My visits were not solely for the doctor though, much to his dismay; but it was becoming more and more evident that Esme never left that room. And why should she have to? There was a bathroom in the back and someone could easily bring her food up to her. Hell, if she requested I would do it personally. I couldn't come up with a better place to keep her in even if I wanted to. I trusted Carlisle with Esme's well-being almost certainly. Progress with her was slow going but paying off more and more as the days passed. She wasn't able to express herself well just yet, and my gentle prodding of what she knew about Edward seemed entirely fruitless, but she was definitely responding to Carlisle and I, and even Alice and Rosalie were able to get a few words by her. Every day that I came to visit I would call her name and she would slowly lift her head from her lap to catch my eye, then give me the most heartbreakingly sad smile as she extended her arm toward me.

As time passed she began speaking again. I believe it was the middle of my second week in Volterra at the end of my work day that she finally formed an intelligible statement; an apology was more of an accurate name for what it was though; and over a silly thing at that. I had taken to brushing out the matted nest that was Esme's hair and when I had encountered a particularly nasty snarl the handle of the brush snapped in my hands.

"Oh dear," she mumbled, her head tilted to the ground as it always was, "I should really be taking better care of myself. I'm so sorry for your brush, Bella. I'll replace it as soon as I can."

Gradually she would begin to speak more and more, though they were mostly apologies at first, but eventually we were able to have small conversations here and there depending on Esme's mood. After my language courses Alice and I often came to visit together, Rosalie being forced to reschedule to accommodate to her commute. Idle chitchat was all that we were pushing out of Esme, Carlisle coming to the conclusion that pressing her for anything further would cause her to relapse back to how she was before. It was all that Alice and I could spare anyhow, our energy being completely depleted by the time our dismissal came rolling around.

My working schedule was honest, easy work, but it was completely exhausting. Short as it seemed Volterra was a formidable fortress, sprawling miles and miles in every direction, its halls included. Kitchen preparation was the one of the highlights of my day; nothing more than cooking and serving the denizens of Volterra for breakfast, and the following hour was spent doing dishes—baby stuff.

The floor servicing was where the torture came in. One wing could have as many as twenty rooms in its corridor, a floor having at least seven individual corridors on its flight, and I had four floors to work with; but thirty minutes to clean and tidy the rooms assigned to me before moving on to the next floor and starting from scratch spelled utter doom and terror for me. Luckily enough not everyone in Volterra was a slob, but those that had something out against proper hygiene, Emmett being one of these few, were the rooms I saved for last, doing nothing more than straightening the bed and cleaning their counters. Anything else they would have to do for themselves or rot in their pig sty.

If my leisure wasn't spent with Esme I was down in the kitchens with Collin learning to whip up something new, having a drink with Tyler, produce shopping in the marketplace with Kachiri and Zafrina, or reminiscing about cheesy American movies of the 90's with Randall and Charlotte. It was safe to say that I made a good friend or two during my stay in Volterra, and though I didn't depend on them nearly as much as I did on Emmett and Jasper, I still held them dear to me.

One of the biggest factors in making my stay in Volterra feel a little more absolute was the day when Aro permitted me one call to the States to insure my wellbeing with whomever I wished. The maximum outgoing calls that were allowed to be made in Aro's home was one every four weeks beginning the week after you have agreed to the terms of your stay. Technically I never signed the papers that bound me here, but I didn't look the gift horse in the mouth as at any moment Aro and his brothers could come down on me with an iron fist. The only reason I believe I wasn't forced to sign anything was because Edward was somewhere behind the scenes coaxing Aro to push back the deadline, which probably meant there was something fishy therein the contract.

So with only the allowance of one phone call as I imagined I wouldn't be here long enough to have another, I made the decision to call Charlie. I didn't dare even dream of calling Renee lest I deal with the three hours that would follow of her chewing my ear off about not keeping in touch.

I made the call in my apartment, the phone sitting on the island counter of my kitchen as I sat atop of one myself, my breath caught in my throat.

He didn't answer, but then again I knew he wouldn't. Charlie would never accept a random international call without knowing who was on the other line. My intention was not to assure him that I was alive and well; it wasn't to tell him how much I missed him or how I couldn't wait to be home again.

I only called to hear his voice.

And I immediately broke down afterward. I made sure to hang up before the tone for the voicemail sounded and crumpled to the floor in a giant ball of a mess when I did. I _did _miss Charlie, and I knew he missed me too, but at the same time I was sure that, just as before when I had no clue what was going on behind my back, there were probably _moles _planted all around Forks assuring Charlie that I wasn't dead, that I was probably on a long string of treks and trips due to work. Of course my dad would ask why I don't call, why I don't answer my phone, why I don't send a postcard; but with people as smooth as she-who-shall-remain-nameless, convincing Charlie I was fine was nothing short of child's play.

Emotional as that phone call made me it was still a huge motivator, because now that I knew my life lines were out of harm's way and not overly concerned with my state of wellbeing then I had nothing holding me back from doing what I had to do.

Cooking? I lived alone for the past four years of my life so such a task was nothing. Cleaning? I dust off and polish rocks for a living; making a bed is simple. Taking a language course? The only hard part about it would be pretending I'm stupid and relearning in a way that's not too fast or too unbelievable but besides that, consider it done.

..

And so was my life for the next four weeks.

..

I worked, I rendezvoused with the people I was close with whenever I could, I ate, I cooked, I shat, I slept. And then I woke up to do it all again. My life was now an easy, repetitive cycle that was simple to go along with.

There was a new face almost every day, I noticed, and sometimes there were familiar faces that I would run into as well, people whose faces I would have only recognized in passing in Forks were basically mulling about me constantly, and I made a point to greet each and every one.

But on one particular day, the Thursday of my third week, Angela was one of those too familiar people to cross my path during my cleaning shifts. When I first saw her I almost pivoted on my heel and took off on a sprint but I resisted. I held my ground.

She'd looked so different than I remembered her. She wasn't the shy, timid girl that I had grown fond of with slim glasses and a bulky ponytail, and she certainly wasn't the calm and quiet assistant that I was used to. She was just heading the opposite direction when she turned her head, caught my eye, then squealed and raised her arm over her head to wave me over.

"Ohmuhgawd! Bella, it is so good to see you again! How are you? Wait, what's wrong? Oh, I'm a little loud, aren't I? Sorry, I'm just excited to see you here! And alive!"

"Mmm," was the only half intelligible response I could come up with. She'd hugged me and kissed my cheek and an action that was once so normal and part of my daily routine felt strange and awkward. I didn't return her hug. I kept my arms at my side, fists balled. This Angela was nothing more than a common stranger that knew my name. I didn't know her, what she liked, her favorite pastimes and hobbies, or where she studied for college to get her anthropology degree. The Angela I knew was a lie and the glaring reality was now currently staring in my face, beaming at me.

"How have you been?"

"Well," I answer tensely; I don't reciprocate the question.

"That's good. Listen, I'm really sorry about the whole "Undercover agent thing, ya know? I mean, a job is a job right?" She laughs boisterously and I suddenly felt an intense churning in my stomach. "I hear you and Edward hit it off and got married—that's also nice."

I give her a weak nod and she's babbling a mile a minute. How talented this Angela was. She was nothing, not the slightest bit like the woman I'd once called my friend and she was so good at the role she played that I had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that _this _woman was her. That deep, aching sense of loss I'd felt when Emmett and Jasper explained the situation before began to resurface and I knew that I would no longer be able to just stand here and pretend that I was fine when I wasn't. Quickly I cut into whatever statement Angela was hawking and told her I would see her later, and as I turned my back to her my jaw quivered at the lie, because I _never_ wanted to see her again.

Lies, lies, lies.

I was surrounded by them, engulfed in them, surfing them with a weak spirit that seemed too frail to hang onto the tide. They seemed to follow me now, clinging onto the fabric of my clothing and becoming my shadow, melding with my steps and becoming a second nature of their own, an entity that I no longer noticed.

The fact that I was here aside, that I got to see the woman I loved most in life again notwithstanding; I was _abandoned _here. Edward abandoned me.

I was beginning to feel that the excuse I'd fabricated on behalf of Edward's absence was no longer good enough, that he had no intention of coming back for me or saving the girls and I from doubtless imminent danger. How have I not heard from him for this long? How uncanny is it that _no one _including Dr. Carlisle even had a presence of mind to mention his name without any coaxing from my part? How did no one have any idea what he was up to or where he was? I was becoming paranoid enough to believe that everyone was in on my _husband's _casting off of me, and that they were all just too kind to break the news to me.

A fucking note he left me.

A piece of flimsy fucking paper with a handful of cryptic text that left me more troubled than I had been before reading the words there on it.

And if I didn't know any better I would think Edward simply handed me over to Aro to finally wash his hands of me. What if, after a halfhearted failed attempt to have my death sentence revoked he simply gave up on me and instead just plead for a push-back on the verdict instead? Though even that was wishful thinking because Edward was _not _the type to beg to anyone, for anything, let alone for the burden he'd been sheltering like a weight for the past month.

If I was made to die then how exactly should I feel? _Why _were all these faces suddenly reappearing here in Volterra when a day rarely passed that they weren't at work or on their way to their own commutes back in Forks? Were they Aro's proofs of my incrimination? What Angela said, that she was happy to still see that I was alive, was she expecting me to have bitten the dust already? So many, many questions that I was left to deal with by myself and yet was still expected to appear _sane_, or even _happy. _Was I supposed to rejoice in the fact that I got to see my family again and hear from my father? Should I have been thankful to Aro for allowing me a last glance at them before being sentenced to my execution?

When I finally returned to my apartment I threw in the towel. The second the door closed behind me I collapsed against the thick wood and let the darkness swallow me whole. I bawled and blubbered and howled and coughed and sputtered until the life had essentially drained from my body.

Physically, I was spent. Mentally, I was washed out. Emotionally? Forget about it.

On the outside looking in I just appeared to be a wailing mess, but, subconsciously, this was my one and only way of releasing my demons. I had to get rid of all this excess energy I was carrying around or I would lose my shit. There was no one I could talk to any of this about because who knew which ears were pressed to the walls? There was no Edward here to take out all my frustrations on through rough sexual contact or loud, passionate cursing contests. I had no punching bags with me so to speak—though I was almost positive there was probably a gym somewhere in this fortress—so the only solution I had was to cry. Just cry myself into a coma for a few hours so I was up and functional for my next day.

I didn't bother checking the stint or counting the hours that I spent weeping on the floor, but by the time I had glanced up to the floor to ceiling windows south of the apartment the sun had dipped behind the lush green valleys over the way. It was getting late and I hadn't eaten nor showered yet. I decided to just skip it and save it for the morning in hopes of waking up a little earlier than my usual time.

As I climbed shakily to my feet to stretch out my poor back it was as if I had never considered my most recent tribulations. Besides the dry tracks of tears and bubbly snot hovering dangerously close to my lip I was fine, refreshed even. My head was a little clearer, my steps a tad lighter. I could make it through this. It would take a bit of faith in me to do, but I knew that I could conduct myself as I usually did.

I had to be strong.

The only thing I could do from here was stick it out. I was a visiting stranger dumped and forsaken here by her disappearing husband but that didn't mean I had to play the victim. Naturally, I wouldn't—shouldn't—have to go out of my way just to avoid anyone. On top of looking suspicious it just wouldn't feel right after this long of uniformity. I was the one who was uncomfortable; what sense did it make to drag anyone else into my bubble of misery?

_So suck it up, Swan. Throw on your big girl panties, uncurl yourself from the pathetic ball on the floor, and be a woman._

Thank you very much, subconscious.

I'll do just that.

xXXx-xXXx

On the first day of my fourth week in Volterra I developed the sense of normalcy, something closer to an exercised tedium that would perk up once in a while every time I found a new question to mull over, after seeing yet another familiar face.

I forever lived in doubt and suspicion and I could no longer look at Emmett or Jasper or Carlisle as if they were people that supported my safe harbor, but as the ones placing individual sticks of dynamite under it. I began to slowly slip away from the loving arms of Alice and Rosalie to make more time for my weeping sessions, scheduled once a day every day after my shifts ended, turning them away when they requested little trips to the bar on floor 3B and immediately turning down suggestions of sleepovers. I kept up my visits to Esme as usual but I didn't bother saying much as _she _began to be the one to talk to me, simply choosing to ignore the wary looks she would send me and brushing off that glare of pity that I was almost sure I was seeing in her eyes.

I worked, I rendezvoused with the people I was close with whenever I could, I ate, I cooked, I shat, I cried, I slept. And then I woke up to do it all again. My life was now an easy, predictable cycle that was simple to go along with.

By the time my day was over the only thing I wanted to do was bathe and pass out and not specifically in that order. Though the days were long, and often hard, I preferred them this way. I had very little time to myself with everything going on and even less time to stop and think about anything. Hell, if possible I would have taken on _more _work, even though it would mean sacrificing my precious hours of home therapy.

As far as I was concerned Edward only existed when I needed inspiration to pour out my soul on the floor when I got home, and the only reason I had to think I was going to die was because of the constant hiccoughs that caught in my throat while I was doing so.

I worked, I rendezvoused with the people I was close with whenever I could, I ate, I cooked, I shat, I cried, I slept. And then I woke up to do it all again. My life was now an easy, dreary cycle that was simple to go along with.

…

..

But on the third day of my fourth week in Volterra, a Wednesday, my simplistic cycle of ennui was broken as I walked through my door prepared to bear my heart, dropped my inexpensive bundle of fresh produce in the kitchen and was greeted in my bedroom by the blonde bombshell in a cat suit known as Tanya sprawled across my bed.

…

..

….

..

* * *

**Author's Note: **So sorry for the wait but I was _extremely _self-conscious about this chapter and must have accumulated a net worth of at least 14, 000 words in completing the final product, a personal new record. I somehow have the balls enough to say I think the 808 minutes editing time and 40, 007 characters were worth it. I felt really connected to the dark spots going on in Bella's life at the moment and was subsequently taken on her emotional journey myself. I hope it was adequate in some ways and satisfactory in others, guys.

Until next time! Happy Friday!


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note: **Hey, all! Bit of a long one today. Hope your Patty's Day was filled with liquor and happiness .

* * *

Chapter 22: Dejected and Deceived

It was as if my tears ceased just in seeing her there, the woman whom I competed with on a daily basis. Stopped in their tracks as they had, I could feel them doubling behind my wide eyes, waiting for an opportunity to spill and communicate my inferiority to her, to _Tanya_.

"Isabella! Come! Let me look at you! It has been such a while since I've seen you last. Oh, your skin is so cold. And your arms are skinnier, too. Have you been eating right?"

"Tanya," I squeak. "What are you doing here?"

"I come to visit," she smiled. "I was in neighborhood and thought I should pop in to see how are you."

Her accent was much thicker than it used to be, heavier. It colored her words strangely, almost forced them. I had half a mind to tell her she could speak in Swede if it made her more comfortable but I had no idea if someone was listening or not, if she was wired even.

How paranoid I'd gotten.

I was now in the belief that everyone was out to get me, including Edward's _real _wife. Maybe in her eyes I was competition, someone in the way of her and her legitimate husband's happiness. If she was wired, if she was boasting her Swede in hopes I would accommodate to her, then it would be the easiest proof to Aro that I was a liar and he would have me killed rather sooner than later.

Or maybe she saw me as the most miniscule threat possible compared to her. Maybe I was so plain and meek in her eyes that she knew she had nothing to worry about, that I wouldn't even have the possibility of stealing Edward from her. What else could these extreme levels of confidence be? Why was I still even clinging to Edward like this now?

I knew I couldn't dare parallel with her.

"Oh. That's nice of you." My voice is blank, empty of any emotion and colorless. It's boring, dead. Tanya's is high and reedy, like listening to a well-seasoned flute; perky, enthusiastic.

_1-0…_

"So! I have heard good things, yes? You have taken on so much work in Volterra, Bella! I am so proud of you. From skinny girl covered in purple dirt to skinny girl in big castle, yes?"

She laughs loudly, throwing her head back and bending over slightly to hold her stomach. I give a weak chuckle of my own and am disgusted at how despondent I sound. I wanted this woman to leave—as soon as possible, too, because I wouldn't be able to hold myself in for much longer. I was just barely managing now.

"Well it was nice to see you…"

"Oh how rude of me! You are tired, yes? I should not hold you up any longer, forgive me. _I varje fall, Hans Helighet _Aro request me deliver this to you." She produced a sealed parchment from the dresser top and slipped it between my fingers. "You have yet to meet Marcus and Caius, no? Make this priority! I see you soon, _min vackra._"

She leaned forward to kiss both of my cheeks deftly, and then took me completely off guard by pressing her lips against mine. I was so shocked I went stiff, my eyes widened to the point of seeing ceiling from my angle. I went even more rigid, if it were possible, in feeling her tongue slide over my mouth, slowly, and my eyes began to _burn _in recognizing how familiar the move was.

"Mmm," she hums lowly. "That is very strange. You do not taste of Edward. Mmm…well have nice sleep, Bella."

And as she sauntered out of the room and slammed the front door shut behind her the tears fell in straight, thick paths down my face, down over my chin in dripping onto the carpet. After a moment or so I inhaled a sharp breath, my body shuddering from the sudden action, and collapsed onto the bed in front of, sinking my face into the pillow to muffle all of my cries and screams…

Because _she _was the one who tasted like Edward.

..

….

…

I turned my head sluggishly, completely displeased with the fact that I was up before my alarm was to go off and my eyes met with the illuminant waxing moon. With my head burrowed beneath the huge mountain of pillows and throws above me I stayed staring at the moon for a few minutes at a time. I had to pee very badly but there was no way I felt like moving right now. The clouds were dense but thinner today, coming in large groups and blowing by quite quickly with the aid of the troubled wind, allowing the ivory light to cast off their backs and slide smoothly onto the land below with many intermissions in between. I watched the show for as many minutes as I could stand before my bladder demanded my immediate movement.

Just as I was rolling over to use my hands I felt the crinkle of paper between my fingers. I paused for a second, then barreled across the bed until I reached my feet. I wanted to open the parchment, but I really had to pee, so I shuffled to the bathroom quickly, plopped down on the toilet and did my business as I tore at the edges of the envelope. For just a fraction of a second I had hoped it was a letter from Edward but the small kindling of fire was smothered quickly as I recalled Tanya saying it was Marcus and Caius' notice. Besides, if it _was _from Edward why would Tanya pointedly shove the fact that he wasn't here, with me, in my face?

Suddenly an ache seized my chest, causing me to gasp and double over where I sat. The only way I could describe it as was being stabbed in the ribcage with a sickle of ice. It took my breath from me, leaving me empty and winded, bare and vulnerable—and as the frigid cold invaded my body, a pain so acute it brought tears to my eyes hit me. I felt trapped, solid walls drawing up on either side of my hunched over shell and enclosing on me as I struggled to summon oxygen into my lungs.

What if Edward _was _here—not here protecting me—but with her?

With Tanya?

I felt the vibrations of my voice bubbling up behind my throat but I couldn't hear the sound it made. I couldn't hear anything but little singings. Babbling, I recognized. The sound of a million tiny voices singing a hundred differently pitched songs in a sloppy harmony.

The sound of the rivers.

This noise, this cacophony, was so, so similar to the rushing voices of the rivers from the Forks Crystal Cavern. The rush of the bigger river, the one that spewed heat like a sauna was the deeper toned section; bottomless, luring, multifaceted. The smaller river was the intonation of the group though; weak but engaging as its unimpressive streams crashed over the large, unrelenting rock underneath. With the large river above it, its sound was nearly completely drowned out but somehow, sheer force of will perhaps, the small river refused to be unheard. A small trickle it was, but so very profound.

I hear it, I assure myself. I hear _you_.

As I slowly drew my eyes open the sound of the rivers seemed to fade into a more intimate sound, one I was even more familiar with: the sound of my blood rushing through my veins and the weak but steady thump of my heart in my chest. I kept my fingers fisted in the material of my shirt as I stared into the small window across the floor, my attention completely focused inward. I struggled to do it, almost failed at it, but with endless minutes of concentration I pulled the sound of my heart out from the current of my life source.

_Thump…thump…thump._

There you are…I hear you.

_Thump…thump… ….thump._

I hear you.

…

..

….

..

I crossed and uncrossed my legs nervously as I sat on the brick wall that trailed onto the garden's main walkway, my fingers tapping excitedly at the pleated edge of my skirt. As I sat and waited I chastised myself for not opening the envelope Tanya left for me earlier, as I was now terribly ill prepared. The letter therein was a request for an audience with me, a formal introduction for Aro's two brothers, Marcus and Caius to formally meet me. Although it was on the outside looking in a consultation with the brothers, this was also a business meeting, an evaluation of my work and an overview of how well I was doing.

Naturally I took this very seriously. I have always and imagine I always will be committed to performing my job to the best of my ability and I've never been one to relax when the boss calls me into their office to discuss my progress. I shouldn't be so fidgety; for a little over a week now work has been the only thing I put myself into physically. No doubt there wouldn't be any bad news concerning this—but what worried me was the fact that I would be in the hands of the two men that had ultimately held my life in their hands when I arrived here.

Should I be allowed to live or should I be killed immediately?

Marcus said live.

But Caius wanted me dead.

Again I took to smoothing my fingers over my skirt. This meeting would mean a lot more to me than it would to them. For them, it was seeing how valuable I was, and how well I put myself into work. For me, how I presented myself to either of them could only make me look really good or really bad. If I was professional and respectful I could show Caius that I wasn't a waste of space, but if I fucked up Marcus would change his mind and with two No's and half a Yes I was as good as dead.

It was all about how you carried yourself.

It was all a test.

"Are you Isabella Masen?"

At the sound of this voice I jumped to my feet in an instant, my eyes going wide and finding the owner. And here they were, in the flesh.

The life givers.

"Yes, I am."

"Marcus," the older man points to his brother, "Caius," he points to himself. "Pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine." For a second I stand awkwardly deciding whether I should shake their hands or just bow but ultimately just smile widely and nod at them both.

"Yes. Well, come along. We'll have a seat on the loggia and discuss matters there."

Once we are seated my nerves settle in. I glance between each of their faces slowly, unable to enjoy the beautiful view of the garden from this height up and only being able to see the opinions in their eyes. Marcus's smile is amiable, gentle, and inviting as he looks me in the eye out of curiosity; but Caius's glare sends shivers down my spine. It's as if his face was carved from the stiffest stone and at even the thought of smiling the façade would crack and crumble. How different the three men were, so different from one another, but complementing to each other.

"So how have you enjoyed your stay thus far, Isabella?"

"Well, thank you. The entire castle is very accommodating, including its staff. I love it here."

"Hm. Well once I have a view at your manuscripts we will decide if you can love the stay further. Your documents, please?"

"Of course." I pushed the papers that sat in front of me into Caius's skinny fingers and smiled tentatively to Marcus who had yet to take his eyes off me.

"Also, please print the sentence at the top of this page onto the lines below, if you will."

My eyebrows knitted together skeptically as I glanced at the paper given to me but I copied the sentence nonetheless.

_Pack my box with five dozen liquor jugs._

O…kay…?

"Thank you." I watched somewhat befuddled as Caius held up the paper with my written script to the documents from HR. He looked between the two rapidly, years of practice put into this scrutiny, before laying the papers down and folding his hands over them. "I see you have a very strong work ethic. Always prompt, continuously respectful to your overseers, enthusiastic. I like this."

"Thank you."

"Marcus?"

"Here you are, my dear."

My smile seems grow tenfold as I unfold the paper handed to me but the breath is once again taken from my lungs as I stare at the text there.

_What the fuck is this?_

"You have one week," Caius announces as he gathers to his feet. "Any later and we will be forced to take action."

"I…I don't—what…what does this—I…?

I could barely get any oxygen to my brain to grasp the full meaning of this.

"You have refused to put your signature on your binding papers and as a result have left us suspicious of you. This is your own doing."

"But Aro said I could sign them whenever I wanted!"

"And you have missed the deadline of the time allotted to make your decision. Frankly you are a nuisance to us; you cost more than you're worth."

"I work for my pay!"

"And so does everyone else, but with many others more than willing to take your position and work even harder for your place than you for so much less…"

"THIS ISN'T FAIR!"

"Fair?" he exclaimed. "You want 'fair' then you drag your sorry tail to a carnival! This is the real world, girl. Pick your head up from the clouds and look around you." He slams his hands down onto the table and leans inexplicably close to whisper his harsh words in my face. "No one here cares whether you live or die, do you understand me? You chose to be obstinate about this decision and now you pay the price. How ungrateful! After your husband goes to all of the trouble to get you here, you waste the opportunity. He lies for you, risks his own life to keep you off the chopping block and the best you can do is cook a meal and fold some blankets. Disgraceful! You Americans are nothing but a waste of air and space. I have had enough of you. One week, girl—if your debt is left unpaid within the next 180 hours we will be on your door step, your coffin in tow. Do _not _keep us waiting."

For a very long minute there I was utterly blind. The world had turned pitch in a second and all I heard was my life givers' retreating footsteps, the sound of my youth walking away from me, slipping right from between my fingers. A bitter, dry taste crept up and settled in the base of my throat, a burning sensation that just would not give, and not a moment sooner was I voiding my previous meal into the growing fragrant bushels of Narciso and Rosabella.

An even more irritating burn surfaced behind my clenched eyelids that I simply refused to appease. Deep down I knew this what they wanted—they wanted to see me break down in front of them strictly to showcase how weak I was. I wouldn't be the one to give them their little performance though. It would take something much worse to make me give up my dignity. In the past week or so I'd kept it wrapped around me like a thick blanket shielding me from the cold and until the snow started drifting and the frostbite numbed my fingertips I would continue to hang on to it.

So with shaky knees and hitched breaths I climbed slowly to my feet, then pushed myself up the steps of the verandah to retrieve the papers left by Caius. I read through the words for a final time keeping the bile at bay just barely, and ripped the note right down the middle before rolling it into a ball and lobbing it into the garden below. They wanted me dead? Then fine, let them have at me. I wanted them to come and kill me.

But I would make it the hardest fucking thing they ever did.

xXXxxXXx

Since I had been given that Thursday off to meet with Marcus and Caius the rest of my day was completely free. The tidbit of information I received just a few hours before meant little to nothing to me now. If they thought I was going to walk around here shaking in my boots they had another thing coming entirely. I had made my decision the moment after I read the paper, but now sitting here, all of the little details brewing insistently in my head, I knew that I had a few things to accomplish before I could make any moves.

There were so many, many people working in Volterra, and each person was kept account of in such a systematic way that they might as well have been little ants in the Castrogiovannis' glass home.

And there was only one of me.

If I slipped up in any way whatsoever I could call it quits right then and there. I had to be careful, cunning. Yes, I had most of the details worked out but they weren't perfect.

I had three days.

And if I wasn't ready in those three days I would either lie down on my back to accept my punishment or I would die at my own hand. I only had myself now, and this is how it should have always been. Dependency made me weak; hoping for a let up made me even weaker. I had to expect the worse and perform accordingly otherwise I'd be sunken in the bottom of the ocean and never thought of twice again.

With my head still dangling precariously between my open legs I got up to stretch and glanced at my alarm clock.

_3:17._

All the shops closed at 8. I had a few hours, and I had quite a few purchases to make.

I got to it immediately.

…

..

.

It was around 9 when I finally let myself back into my apartment. With a few minutes to spare before finishing my shopping I had paid a quick visit to Carlisle's office to check in with Esme, letting her know I would be calling for her on Saturday, and even had the time to crawl over to the bar and spot out Alice and Rose to make a similar appointment for tomorrow. The look of shock on their faces at seeing me was a little unprecedented but I chalked it up to being surprised at me being in the pub.

I had been followed the whole day long, I noted as I put away my groceries. The first one I encountered was another new face but I'd caught him tailing me when I made an assessment, on a whim, to turn around and backtrack where I'd been under the pretext of purposely leaving behind a bag at a store to see whose faces was constantly going the direction I was. I had to say, these _spies _were ridiculously sloppy, following me directly into the store then coming out a few seconds after me? Did I look stupid? This guy must have been new.

When I had stepped back in to Volterra limits the first guy dropped off, and a second, taller man picked up where he left off and when I went to another wing he was switched out, too. So as I was making all of these rounds to Carlisle and the girls I had been given witness to the switching back and forth between spies after spy, all paid and employed to keep an eye on little old harmless me.

How sad.

I pulled over to the main room and set down the three gallons of water I bought earlier. I popped open each one, then transferred a good portion of water from each into the longer, more narrow bottles that I had "borrowed" from the second floor supply closets. The remaining water that didn't fit into bottles were poured into medium sized cookie containers and wrapped precariously in aluminum, which were stored in the corner of my freezer until I was ready to make a move. The produce was put away as normal but the cans of food and the like were stacked away in the back of my enormous closet.

All that remained to be done was the packing of clothing and I could do that at any time.

Just the goodbyes were left now.

xXXxxXXx

"I can't tell you how happy I am that you wanted to meet with me, Bella. I've been so worried about you, dear."

"I'm sorry for the trouble. Come on in. Sit wherever you want; get comfortable."

I closed the door after Esme and brought the little snack crackers and cheese squares out to the front room for hospitality's sake. "Juice or wine?" I asked from the kitchen. "Know what? I'll just put out the wine."

"So how have you been, my love? I feel like I barely see you anymore."

"I come see you every day, Esme," I said as I sat on the living chair across from her on the loveseat.

"No, you poke your head in everyday and stay with me for a few seconds, and then you leave. I look at you every day but I most certainly do not get to see you."

My smile was halfhearted but genuine. I missed that gentle touch of chiding from her once in a while. I was almost sure to have received more of it from her if we were near each other more often but we'd been on such different wavelengths since I got here; always one of us were totally out of it or just not in the mood for communication in general.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Mmm. So what is it this time, Bella?"

I was beyond being surprised that she caught up with me so easily. "It's a little bit of everything. Long story."

"I've got time," she said crossing her legs and tilting her head.

"They're trying to kill me."

"Yes."

"You already knew?"

"Carlisle told me."

"Okay," I allowed, my suspicions confirming that he would know something about the current situation. "So you know the road that this conversation will be taking already, then?

"I knew when you asked to see me today that this would be about that."

"And you're concerned about me?"

"Obviously?"

"Right, right. That was stupid of me to ask."

"And knowing you, you've already come up with some ridiculous plan to either persuade Aro and his brothers to reconsider their decision or you're going to hike out of here, am I right?"

"Spot on, actually. Though I doubt that I can come up with anything good enough to persuade those wrinkly bastards so…"

"You don't change over the years, Bella," Esme laughed. "You've been the same ever since you were a wee little thing with missing teeth and knobby knees. That's how you got the Forks Crystal Cavern excavation, you know. Either you were going to get that dig or you were going to quit and find yourself another firm that would give that place to you, knowing I wouldn't have been able to handle your loss."

"I _sorely _regret going through all that trouble now," I chuckled, nodding as I remembered pulling out the bullshit threats to get my way like a petulant child.

And suddenly Esme sobered and the gaze that was just smiling and crinkled folded into something deep and penetrating, questioning. She stared at me for two very long minutes and all I could do was stare right back, to look her into her stormy grey eyes and watch the thoughts dance behind them.

"Do you really regret it, Bella? Regret going to FCC?"

"I don't know what you mean." Shit. I'd lost this war the second I got the balls to look away and bow my head. Of course she knew I knew what she meant but she would play cat and mouse with me until I rolled over and gave so I might as well just spill.

"Of course we all know about Edward, Bella…"

_Speaking of…_

"You know, Esme, while we're on this subject I have a few questions for you of my own."

"Yes, I know," she nodded, "and I intend to tell you everything I know, but first…" She trailed off to raise her chin and an eyebrow at me and I sighed.

I had no fucking clue what to tell her.

Regret? Regret meeting Edward?

No, those words were alien to me. I hadn't once thought of regretting meeting Edward. Regret the circumstances we were under? Sure, but that wasn't exactly the same thing. If I had the opportunity to go back in time to any point of my choice and do anything differently, would I? As I flipped through the colorful memories that were etched into the niches of my brain I chewed into my lip, hopelessly upset to find nothing. That annoying word that kept popping up in my head; "fate", wriggled around restlessly in my head but I constantly pushed it away. I wanted it to leave me alone, to let me have my hopelessly.

"So you love him?"

I looked up in surprise, my eyes widening almost painfully as my heart slammed in my chest. "What?"

"It's okay to say it, Bella. The words aren't going to burn you, I promise," she smiled. "You love him?"

My chin seemed to be gravitating to the ceiling as I regarded my mother figure over the tip of my nose. It was as if she was speaking an entirely different language and she was expecting me to have a quick here or there answer.

I didn't have one.

"I…I-I…you don't really…ahh…um…know? What?"

_Smooth, Swan._

Esme threw her head back to let out a boisterous laugh and clapp her hands and I was sort of pulled into the gravity of her hilarity, my own amusement simply hovering around the edges of her cheerful bubble and floating there waiting for the mood to capsize once more back into a more serious nature.

"That is the funniest thing I've probably heard in a long time," she said swiping her finger under her eye.

"I'm glad I amuse you."

"So…I take it you're not sure yet?"

I almost worked up the nerve to shrug but lost my gusto at the last minute. Was I sure? Wasn't I? Truthfully I was more unsure if I was sure or not than I was sure of my answer. And I was also giving myself a fucking headache.

"No. I'm not."

"Alright, that's fair. I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to answer, okay?"

"Esme, I really need to ask you something, but I don't want _you _to feel like I'm forcing you to answer. Is that okay?"

"Is it about Edward?" she guessed picking up her flute of wine.

"Yes."

She sighed like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, then tilted her head into her hand as she twirled her glass around and around between her fingers. She sat like that for maybe five minutes, and where I was truly curious about what her answer would have been I had no desire to push her into a direction I would regret.

"I've always loved archaeology. It's one great big passion for me, you know?" she asked, and at my nod she continued on as if I was just the background piece of her reverie. "I was no taller than three feet when I started digging holes in my parents' backyard and shine my little magnifying glass at the dirt, at the clear, chlorinated water of our little pool. I love finding new things. I love discovering the names of things I'd never known. I loved knowledge in general, and while I was in primary school there was no doubt that I was one of the most intelligent students my school had fostered and already I knew which direction I was heading.

"When I got to be your age, Isabella, I was almost—if not more—studious than you've turned out to be now. I worked very hard to get to the position I am in right now. I'm not only the director of our firm but the director of the marine biology museum out in Seattle, you know. Hard work, perseverance. I was doing what I loved to do and doing a damn good job of it, too.

"But, of course, my life just wasn't complete. The story of every hard working woman's life, right? It pissed me off, Bella, that I was like other women. I wanted to stand out all on my own; I graduated high school at 16; college at 18; returned for my following degrees the next season, snagged myself a position at the firm at 20, director at 23. I'd accomplished _so much _in so little time that I never even dreamed of settling down or taking a break." She stopped to shake her head and tilt the glass over as she emptied the contents into her mouth, and as she mumbled a bit more of her speech that was simply impossible for me to catch I took the opportunity to refill her flask, chug mine, and pour another glass for the both of us as she took hers back again.

"So on the day of my inauguration into museum as the director I wasn't happy or ecstatic or even looking forward to the job—I was just satisfied that I reached another peak for someone else's life, that, in someone's else's position, I reached the pinnacle. For me it was just another job that I could easily replace with something better. I walked around taking hundreds of photos that day, shook countless hands, some twice, and chitchatted about accomplishing something I no longer cared for.

"The reception was just winding down when I caught his eye, though." My head snapped up from the coffee table in front of me at that. Just when I thought the backstory would go on for a few more hours we got to the point of interest. "This man was unlike anyone I'd ever seen before, Bella, he really was. A long body, wide shoulders that hooked his suit to his body, a dapper tie around his collar. I'd seen the body first. But when I caught his eyes, _those eyes_…"

She broke off to begin fanning herself. "Those scorching, beautiful, polished green emeralds of his were my kryptonite. I gravitated to him like a moth to a flame the second our eyes met. I pushed past all the press, the photographers, the article interviewers, all of them, just to get to him. And when I did… And when I did…I…I…" It was then I heard her hiccough.

My eyes turned to hers to see silent tears streaking down her pink cheeks and rolling on and off of her chin. I didn't make a move to get up and comfort her, to offer her a tissue, because she was no longer sitting across from me. Esme was now somewhere far, far away; somewhere that had been buried so deeply in her past that she'd forgotten what it looked like.

"His name was Edward Anthony Masen, 6'2, thirty-three years, 187 pounds, and I had never been more a attracted to a man than at that moment. When I walked up to him I immediately knew his type—dark and mysterious, a walking treasure chests full of secrets, and as I pulled my feet to a stop before him I had no intention of falling in love with him…but of course I had.

"I didn't have any words to give him that day. I thought I would but my brain ran in circles being so close to him, but he didn't seem to have anything to say to me either. He simply pulled a small card and pen from his breast pocket, scribbled an address there on the notecard, and slipped it into my hand as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. And then he left.

"I should have been completely insulted by his bluntness, ruffled by the audacity he had to simply slip me a time and place, not even the common decency of a 'Hello!' But I wasn't offended, I wasn't perturbed, and at seven sharp that evening I was on the elevator headed upward to a hotel's whose name escapes me's penthouse suite.

"I let myself in. The elevator led straight into the suite and the second I stepped off the lift I was bombarded with a gorgeous sight of the Seattle skyline, bombarded with the intoxicating scent of men's soap, fried vegetables, and grilled chicken. He was standing in the kitchen, his head bent low over his task on the stove and he didn't once turn around to greet me. I stood awkwardly in the main room, my coat still pulled up to my shoulders, purse still clutched to my side as I watched him. After ten minutes or so of watching his back I worked up the nerve to stomp to his side, and the second the breath exhaled from my slightly open mouth he whirled around, took me in his arms, and kissed me.

"I had never been kissed before. Ever. And this man without a name or greeting had been the first to take that experience from me. But I didn't mind when it happened. No, I hadn't minded at all. I liked it. I was addicted to it after a bit of practice, too. He kissed me as if I he had been parched in the desert for years at a time and I was the closest source of nourishment. His mouth was perfect and wanting and demanding and I was more than willing to oblige him. Before I knew it clothes were being shed left and right, here and there, and we had migrated from the kitchen area to the hallway, the bedroom to the main room to the bathroom then the balcony. It was the most magical, unpredictable evening of my technical, calculated life and I can recall it perfectly to this very day."

By this time there were tears streaking down Esme's face and I had excused myself from the room to get her a few tissues from the bathroom. While she was sniffling and blowing her nose I took the opportunity to switch out her wine glass for a cup of water and if she noticed she didn't let in on it. As I got back into my seat I noticed Esme hadn't looked at me once as she told her tale. Did she think I thought ill of her because of her easy allowances? Did she now see me as an invader on her private memories, because I most certainly felt like one?

"This—encounter, if you will—went on thrice more before the suspense killed me," she continued. "Just as he was about to withdraw from my arms to gather his clothes and mine I broke into a bout of tears, begging him to tell me his name.

"And in the sexiest, silky smooth voice that I had ever heard in my life he responded, 'Anthony. Anthony Edward Masen.'

_Ah, there goes my missing puzzle piece._

My focus couldn't have been any more concentrated if it were even possible. The second Esme's lips wrapped around the word "Anthony" it were as if a tiny shot clock went off in my head. Once the information was in I had nowhere to go with it but my gut, and if the information took too long to process the entire operation would lose wind. I damn sure wasn't going to let that happen.

I made no indication that I would respond to her last statement even though her eyes were turned to me then, for the first time since the conversation began, and I wasn't planning on interrupting or inquiring now. I needed to know more. Of course there would be more. But I wouldn't turn her reverie into a fact sheet, I wouldn't even dream of it.

"I was a big ol' mix of emotions at that moment," she sighed, having given up on me responding. "I was happy, excited, extremely curious, shocked, and had all these feelings running through me whilst coming down from my third orgasm of the night—sorry, sweetie." I simply waved. "I was just taken back at having heard him speak. He'd never uttered one word in my direction and the only times I heard his voice was in the throes of passion with his head buried in my neck. My curiosity came from my reaction to hearing him, from the questions that were just bubbling up inside of me. After hearing his name I began painting a character for him, giving him a vast array of attractive traits to match his perfect face and ridiculous body; but after that night I realized whatever I'd thought up was pitiful compared to the real guy.

"Our relationship flourished in the blink of an eye. I'd known Anthony for three weeks before he asked me to marry him, to which I agreed instantly, and we eloped in Vegas the next night. A month later I was found to be pregnant with Mary Alice and before I knew it I had started a family. I knew the moment I stepped into my newly bought home with my little baby in my hand that my life would never once be what it used to.

"I laugh at how naïve I was back then, you know, Bella. I didn't think anything of it back when I was struck blind for my love of that man but the signs of how shady he was seemed to be everywhere. It _hung _in the air surrounding us and yet I never questioned it. I was too happy! Of course I hadn't known but Anthony was a leading operative in Volterra at the time."

Esme stopped to lift her head and fix her eyes on the ceiling above her, blinking rapidly as she fought to hold back the moisture in them. "I'm sorry," she apologized in a chuckle, dabbing her napkin under her eyes. I went to her side immediately, laying my hand on her back and rubbing circles over shoulders but not speaking.

"I don't know too much of the details. I don't _want _to know the details. All I know is that I was _there_ when it happened."

A long silence passed between us and I ventured out on the limb she left me at not elaborating. She didn't need to; I knew what was coming next. But I wanted to hear it anyway.

"When what happened?" I asked gently, and at the tiny whimper she emitted I slid forward in my seat to get a better look at her as I gripped her knee. "What did you see, Esme? What happened to Anthony?"

It almost seemed as if she wasn't going to answer me, but just as I thought she became irresponsive her breath hitched and she began a quiet keening as trails of tears dripped down her lovely face. So long as the question was out there it wouldn't be ignored, I knew that. I just had to be patient with her.

"There were…stories," Esme said in a deep breath, "that are circulating around in Volterra about my late husband, Alice's father. Rumors, more like it, and the beginnings of their whispers was always, 'that's her: the traitor's mistress.'"

She glanced at me from the corner of my eye and I nodded encouragingly.

"I met with Mister Aro two days after touchdown. He asked for me personally. We met in the library a few miles off the coast of here, where you woke up when you saw Alice and Rosalie a month ago? He was polite in manner but very straightforward. He was blunt in his explanations to me. My late husband was not American. Although I never asked what his nationality or ethnicity was, I deducted that he was of an Italian Egyptian progeny. He worked for Aro, his personal assistant, if you will—multiplied by ten—and Anthony was very close to Aro, his underboss, meaning he dealt with Aro's intimate matters making him the most trusted.

"He'd had a child before Alice, Bella. I think, by now, you've already figured out who that is. That will be next. According to Mr. Honcho my late husband was a womanizer. Not the most surprising new to me after I was told, but what was surprising was being told that Anthony impregnated Aro's wife before migrating to the US and meeting me.

"Not only did he skip out on taking responsibility for his mistakes but he killed her and the unborn child. He _killed _them, Bella. In cold blood, unremorsefully. Hearing that, I don't think I'd ever been more shaken up. But the bad news hadn't stopped there. Oh, no. Aro was responsible for my husband's death. He tracked him down, hired a small platoon of minions, and Anthony was killed a week after their dispatch. In my house. Before my very eyes. So, because of my associative history, I take on the remaining consequence of my husband's punishment. Apparently death isn't enough to Aro so I am also scheduled for a quick execution. Myself and Alice as we are his family; Rosalie is just dragged into the deal by constellation, wrong place, wrong time. That you were also on your way over meant you would probably be in our death-fest as well so I was obviously pissed. I see that look in your eyes, Bella. I know you're upset but I'm almost finished; give me a second.

"I didn't believe Aro," she continued, her tone taking on something I'd never heard from her before. "I could swear on Anthony's grave that he was lying, that he was misinformed about who did what and that someone framed my husband. On the drive back to Volterra I almost tore the door of the car off with rage. 'How dare he say such repulsive thing about the man I loved,' I thought. 'It's not true. None of it was true. I knew Anthony, better than anyone ever could.' I did end up doing some damage to something, but it backfired on me. I punched the colorful bricks of the garden walls as I stormed through the grounds and ended up being dragged to the hospital wing where I met Carlisle. I was having my fist cleaned with peroxide and wrapped with bandages when in walks a gorgeous, 6'5 head of auburn tousled hair and grassy green eyes adjusting the cuffs of his suit as he strode confidently through the door.

"It was then that all of my dots were connected and the truth was laid bare before me.

"We—the girls and I—came to Volterra just a few days before you arrived, two to be exact. I was almost sure that in that time I'd seen everyone that there was to see, but when Edward walked through that door…it was impossible to deny that he was Anthony's son.

"It's been twenty-five _long _years but no matter how much time passes I will never forget the appearance of my husband. Edward had it—hell, he duplicated it almost perfectly! The height, the shoulder width, the hair and eyes, that swell of confidence that rolled off of their persons. It was all right there before me, that trip back to 1985 where Anthony slipped his card into my hand."

"Your husband, Anthony Masen, is Edward's father?" I inquired, my eyes trained on the wine bottle on the kitchen counter.

"That's right."

"And Anthony…died? After you gave birth?"

_"Where did she leave you? Why? What about your father-?"_

_"What about him?" he snapped. "Would you like to know where he was in all of this? Hmm? You want to know why he didn't stop my mother from leaving me?"_

"Yes."

"And Alice…is Edward's sister?"

_"Son of Elizabeth Jean. One sibling."_

"Mhmm."

"Alice is that one sibling," I muttered to myself. There was no father to provide for Edward and his mother and aunt because he was killed just a year after leaving for the States. And Aro killed Edward's father, causing so many hardships for him as a child, probably traumatizing him.

But what was it that Esme had said? That Aro was mad enough to want anyone with familial ties dead and put away. So Edward…

"Does Aro…?" I paused to swallow past the small forming lump in my throat and tried again. "Is Aro going to kill…?" I could barely push the words past my throat.

"Who knows," Esme shrugged. "Edward's worked with Aro for a number of years now. If he wanted it done, I don't think you would have ever gotten the chance to meet Edward, right?"

"Good point. So…I guess that properly explains why you shut down so hard a while ago, huh?"

"Mmm. It was mostly shock. Trauma, too. To see the reincarnation of the one and only man you've fallen in love with, to see another of his kin right before me. Having been told what I was earlier that day, too…ugh. I probably could have conducted myself a little more maturely. I'm kind of embarrassed, honestly."

"Don't be," I said pulling Esme into a tight embrace. "If I were put in a situation like that I don't know _what _I would have done. You're so fucking strong, Esme, it kills me. _I'm _embarrassed by how bad you make me look compared to you."

"No," she responded stroking my hair. "You may not see it now but you've got the strength of a cattle of burly bulls. Look how much you've been through in such a small space of time. I should be the one looking up to you."

_If only she knew._

"Well," I sighed. "Tomorrow's my last day, you know. My execution is scheduled a little earlier than yours probably is," I snorted. "I'll tell you now, don't you dare worry about me, okay? I'll be fine. _You _and the girls, though. Knowing all this like you do…is there a game plan or do you need a little help?"

"That's not funny, and you don't need to worry about us either. No, the girls don't know _anything _but Emmett and Jasper are very well aware and as it is we're strategizing."

"You told them?" I hated that I couldn't trust anyone, especially my boys, but the fact of the matter was that they worked for Aro and they could be relaying things to him daily.

"They're definitely on our side, Bella. If you haven't noticed they're in love so there's little doubt they are just going to stand aside and let their women be killed. Carlisle is also in on what's going on."

"How did those three find out?"

"I told them. I know I shouldn't just be flinging my trust around here but I feel strongly about these boys. I know in my heart that they wouldn't harm a fly."

"So you don't need anything?"

"All I need from you, Bella, is your promise that you will be taking extra special care of yourself. You're so much like me I could mistake you for my own, and it would destroy me if anything happened to you."

"I know, I promise. I love you, Esme. Always have."

"Love you, too, Bees Wax. I don't intend to see you again after today because I expect you have a lot of preparation to do so I wanna make this hug count."

"Mmm."

"Okay! That's enough before I break into another tantrum. Walk me to the door, lovely."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I love you, Bella. Thanks for the talk," she said as I opened the front door for her.

"No, I should be thanking you. Watch your back, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you later, dear. And eat something, for God's sake. You're skinnier than a string bean. Bye, my love."

"Bye," I mumbled.

I closed the door behind me after watching Esme walk away, and didn't hold back at all as I let my suppressed sobs drain me into exhaustion.

…

..

…

..

As I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my wrist I looked up the marble arches that led into Wing D.

**13:00**

Then it's time.

…

..

…

..

As I filed into the elevator after two other cleaning staff I pushed my cart into the corner of the expansive space and began dabbing my temples with my cloth. The doors closed, the button to floor number 5 was pressed, and I waited with my hands behind my back as we were propelled upward to our destinations.

We arrived; I smiled as I let the other staff pass before me and pushed my own cart out after. I reported to my wings and corridors respectively. Wing A; Corridor A, B, then C. Wing C; Corridor B, C, then D. And so on.

But as I pushed my way into Wing E to begin my next set of rooms the bottles of Bleach and Ammonia fell from the front of my cart and spilled onto the hall's floors, spreading and expanding into a large puddle that stretched from wall to wall. The doorman known as Mister Gordon rushed over at my cry of distress and promptly called for spare cleaning units.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Gordon. Hold on a second. I'm going to go get some mops. Watch my cart for me?" and at his nod I was off and on my way. The elevators had surveillance cameras in each of its four corners so I acted normally. I was just going to the janitor's hall to get some supplies for a big spill, nothing suspicious about what I was doing. As I walked down the corridor I glanced up at the time on the large display overhead the main hall.

**13:09**

Perfect.

I reached the doors to the closet, smiling to the other four janitors that made their way in as well. I had to be quick now. If I fucked up then that was the end of me. I veered into a corner after slipping by the staff and swiftly began peeling the layers of my uniform off and balling up the clothes, once again joining the others and finding a caddy to stuff them into along with a janitor's cap to hide my hair.

At 13:11 exactly everyone began to file out of the door to get to their respective stations. I was the second in that line.

I found the door to my apartment, opening it with ease as I'd left it unlock but pretending to use the keys placed on this caddy to get on for show. Once I was in I cracked the door so as not to look suspicious, but broke into a mad dash through the apartment recovering my things: the water bottles, the canned foods, the select few pieces of clothing that I would probably need, and a sheet and throw pillow. As I had practiced getting them all into the bag before, it all fit like a gem and I was well on my way just three minutes after my entrance and I was off of floor two without any incident.

Through the garden, past the marketplace, beyond the city limits, into the thick forestry of the wildlife off of the Via Porta Diana.

I was free.

I almost collapsed to my knees right then and there, but I wasn't completely safe yet. Just a little further and I could bawl and hoot all I wanted.

….

...

..

.

Even from the two miles that I'd trekked away from Volterra I could still see the pinnacle of the macabre main tower. If I could see any point of that wretched place at all I wasn't far enough, so I kept going. But I wasn't in the best physical strength to do so. Sooner or later I would need to stop, to recharge, and the forests of Italy were completely alien to me.

In a do or die decision I found my way to the edge of the long and winding roadway and began to slowly trail away from Volterra while waiting for a car to pass. I got lucky. A truck was just rumbling by when I threw up my arms and began to flail wildly for them to stop. They did. I climbed into the passenger's side, smiling at the kind elderly man who'd opened the door for me, pointing down the road and allowing this stranger to lead me wherever he was headed.

It was but a 15 minute ride as the gentleman pulled up to a farming plantation and as I climbed out of the cabby to get out and shake the man's hand he smiled at me, came over to kiss my cheek, then got back up into his truck and drove away.

I stood there on the side of the road for a moment or two, a little miffed that he just dumped me in the middle of nowhere but thankful for the ride nonetheless. As I stared down the road I watched as a small pile of snow bits floated down to the ground leisurely. Of course it would be snowing. The air up here was very chilled and if I stood out here any longer I would catch a cold. I looked around a bit, and saw that there were only two housing structures to visit for as far as the eye could see. I went for the one closest on my side of the road and hiked up the short yet steep hill to the farm.

I knocked once, then twice after receiving no answer, and breathed a sigh of relief as a kindly old man opened the door for me to come in.

"Do you speak English?" I asked as I set my bag down, to which he shook his head. "Va bene, io parlo italiano. Posso stare qui per la notte, Signore? Sarò ripulire dopo di me stesso." (**That's okay, I speak Italian. Can I stay here for the night, sir? I'll clean up after myself.)**

"Ahhhh bien, bien!" And then he proceeded to tell me that he was going to be out for the night, which was just the most delicious icing on my cupcake.

He showed me which room I would be using then left not five minutes later. I was _not _looking into anything at the moment. I just wanted a bath and a bed.

I bathed, changed into the loose silk pants I'd packed myself and passed out on the loveseat subsequently, the pure driven snow falling in blankets from the sky outside.

xxXXxxxxXXxx

"Wake up, _mia piccola cavia. _Wake-y, wake-y, and eggs and sausage."

"Tanya?" I muttered through my veil of heavy sleep. "What are you doing here?"

"I am saving you, girl. I will take you home. Get up. Come on, I have to leave quickly. Up, up, up!"

"Sorry. Did Edward send you here? To send me back?"

"I am doing you and mine _koppar bjorn _a favor. Now take these and run upstairs to dress. Hurry, hurry!" I snatched the clothes from Tanya's waiting hands and rushed to my temporary room, stripping quickly.

The very last person I was expecting to see at a time like this was _Tanya. _Maybe it was still the paranoia speaking but I had somehow come up with the theory that she was more loyal to Aro and his men than anyone. I didn't know how to feel about her being here to help. The only question that kept playing in my mind was "Where's Edward?"

"Are you decent? Good, I am coming in."

"Do you know where Edward is, Tanya? Do you know what he's doing?"

"Are you so concerned? Or are you sad to leave without proper goodbye?"

_A little of both, actually._

"It's not like that. I just think that it's ridiculously rude to drag me half across the world like he did then dump me on you after running off somewhere."

"Hmm," she grunts as she eyes me, then turns to snap the bed sheets off and held them up to fold.. "Well I don't know. I have not seen him lately."

"He didn't ask you to do this over the phone, did he?" I asked, horrified.

"No, no, no. Look, _flicka_. I do not know where Edward is or what he wants. I am simply doing you a favor. You want to end this madness, no? This is why Tanya is here." She tisked playfully at me then lugged my old bag and her suitcase onto the bed, stuffing my things inside of hers.

"Oh," I muttered bleakly, plopping down onto the bed dejectedly. So he did just abandon me then? He may have tried to help me out in the beginning but, since I'm guessing it was a failed attempt, he'd given up and simply asked Tanya to get me on the next plane out of here? And he didn't even have the decency to say goodbye? Even after all the shit we had to go through to get here? For just a fraction of a second I'd tricked myself into believing that Edward actually _cared_. How…fucking stupid was I?

"Um, Tanya? Could we leave? I'd like to go straight to the airport if we could."

Tanya snapped the suitcase clothes, my discarded clothes and sheets inside. "Yes," she said cheerfully. "It's time to leave. But I'm afraid you're not going to the airport."

It was getting colder by the minute. The old house was unheated, and even with the bright rays from the last of the sunlight reflected from the snow it only seemed icier.

"Where are we going then," I asked.

"I am going to meet with my supervisor and tell him that I have finally accomplished my mission," she purred in Swede. "And you, my dear, aren't going anywhere. You're going to die here today."

…

..

….

..

* * *

**Author's Note: **What do you think is going to happen next? I'd love your feedback, lovelies. Until next time!


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Pain and Complexes

Seriously, God, throw me a bone here, man.

I sighed dramatically, closing my eyes and folding one arm around myself to balance the other on as I held my forehead. After a second or two I peeked up at her from between my gapped fingers then began shaking my head seeing that Tanya did in fact bring her signature catsuit with her today. Of all the things for her to be wearing, and on this kind of mission, she wears full body vinyl. It was pretty tasteless, if you asked me.

I wasn't going to bother saying anything stupid, like "what do you mean I'm going to die here?" No. That was a waste of my precious time and also my precious air. This woman had no intentions of letting me on any plane. That was what the new clothing was for—so they couldn't trace the blood on my own clothing. Couldn't trace my body.

Past the point of panic I threw out the question that'd been bouncing around in my head for a minute now. "Is that why Edward sent you here? Edward couldn't kill me himself?"

"Ah, Anthony. This identity hasn't been particularly fortunate lately, has it? If he were his old self there would not have even been a chance of you leaving that cave, you know, Isabel?"

"It's Isabella," I corrected her.

"Potato, potatis. As it is, I am here to clean up the mess he made. You are a liability, a distraction, a misfit, a good-for-nothing, worthless, replaceable…have I gotten my point across yet?"

Tanya was between me and the open door. She was also taller than me, and, despite the drop dead figure she was strutting, she looked quite a bit stronger, too, and I was hardly at my best at the moment.

I plopped down and sat on the edge of the bed in my new, perfectly fitting clothes, and looked dead into the eyes of my killer. I felt numb, irresponsive, and though I despised myself for it I was unable to move. Besides the tiny quivers that were rolling up my wrists and fingers I felt frozen. She was expecting me to sit there like a lamb waiting for slaughter, putting up no sort of fight at all whatsoever and take it easy on me.

Like fuck I was. I sat up straighter, prepared for whatever may come next, and Tanya moved to stand directly before me.

"Ooh, what's this I'm seeing? I like that steely glint of fire in your eyes, Cherie. It's almost sexy. You're not going to take your death with quiet grace, nej? That's alright. I owe you a fair amount of pain—you have been screwing over many of us this long, I should return the favor, no?"

"What the fuck are you going on about?"

"You. Are. Annoying. It is this simple, yes? Since the day your name has been acknowledged in our database you have been nothing but a complication, endangering yourself and everyone around you. You almost got your little friends killed, you know. Of course they are going to die anyway but that is neither here nor there, yes?"

"And just what the fuck have I done to you? If anything, I'm the one who should want to kill you." No need to elaborate; she'd been embarrassing me this far.

"You should want to kill me. That would be a natural reaction in a situation like this, no? Kill or be killed? But, having known you for this long, you probably have only been planning to run away and find safe place, yes? And then what? Let us make hypothetical and say you did get away? I am not dead, nor am I injured so how long do you expect to be out of my reach? Do you think I won't come back for you, Cherie? That is idiotic. To be quite honest you would be dead already had Edward not been there to save you that day back in Forks. This has been going on for too long. It has to end sometime, no? Okay, come now, get up. I have places to be so let us hurry."

"Hold on! You said you were doing Edward and me a favor? Killing me is the favor? After all this trouble he went to you don't think he would be even a little pissed?" I was buying time now. I just needed another moment or two to come up with something. If she could give me at least that I had a fighting chance.

"What? You don't think I am doing you a favor?" she asked in Swede. "I'm going out of my way to kill you as quickly and—I won't say painlessly—but humanely as possible. I could have left this to some other operative who could give two damns about you. You need to recognize the kindness I am doing you and be grateful, girl. What a spoiled little American you are."

"I don't think this has anything to do with Edward, to be honest with you. I don't think you classify this as a 'favor' for Edward. I also don't think you give two shits about what your superiors want from you. If it were their orders I would be dead by now; whether Edward was there with me in Forks is irrelevant. He's your husband, right? So in the long run he would have forgiven you, especially over something as typical as the silly little American girl who he happened across.

"You're jealous of me, Tanya," I deadpanned. "In simplest terms, you hate the fact that Edward spends all of his time with me, and that he's pushed you aside to take care of me. You think that in disposing of me you can once again go traipsing back into his arms. I'm sorry to break it to you," I laughed, "but I don't think that's going to happen. You know, between you and me, I don't even really think he's all that into you—otherwise what the fuck is all this for?"

For such a beautiful woman I'd never seen so much ugly. Her face was twisted into something sinister, something horrid, and she withdrew her hidden weapon from the holster at her back, pointing directly between my eyes so I was staring into the black chasm of her revolver.

"I'll scream," I threatened with a clenched jaw.

"I'm not killing you here. This room has steel reinforcements and is more likely to survive a fire than the rest of this old bundle of dry wood, and I'm not taking any chances. I want you dead and gone, no screw-ups."

"You're going to burn the place down? Then why did you bother making me change my clothes?"

"God was in the design. Except, of course, I don't believe in God, so you can chalk it up to efficacy. They may find your body in the messy pile of firewood and I don't want them ID-ing you. This would be much easier for me if you were English or German, but the Americans tend to make a mountain out of a mole hill when one of their own is murdered overseas. Up," she hissed with a wave of her gun. "Out the door."

"And if I refuse to move? Will you kill me right here?"

"You won't," she shrugged confidently. "No matter how naïve you are, you're still human. Consequently you'll put off dying as long as possible, like what you're doing now, in hopes that you will find an opportune moment to either defend or strike. You won't; I assure you that. So you are going to listen to me, you are going to get up, walk out this door, down the stairs, and into the bathroom where I slit your throat and torch this place. There are multiple accelerants placed randomly about the house so it should burn down quickly enough."

"Slit my throat?" I balked. "You're not just going to shoot me and be done?"

"It's quiet—virtually soundless, and the only sound you'll be able to make is a dreadful gurgling noise for the remainder of your life. The only drawback I see here is that you don't die as quickly, but I suppose that would be a perk for me," she purred skimming the cold metal of her gun across my cheek, pushing the wild strands of my hair past my neck. I flinched slightly as the barrel touched my lips. "Not for Edward's sake either. I'm not one to make mistakes, but because of you, my little mouse, I made a major one."

"Care to elaborate?" I asked between my teeth. The gun was pressed into my jugular now, forcing my head upward.

"Have you forgotten so soon? Or has Volterra totally desensitized you of death? Your friend, Cherie. I had the apartment in Marais, the description of the building, and she just happened to be lying where you should have been." Her voice lowered to something menacing now, angry, and the pressure that she had on the gun against my skin seemed to increase as she hissed. "Do you know…how embarrassing it was…to be told that I killed. The Wrong. Woman? In case your answer is no, I will just say 'very.' And I intend to make it right with a vengeance."

"You killed Jessica," I gasped. There was no shock in my statement, but her weapon was pressed so tightly to my throat that I could scarcely breathe. At this point it was to be expected. Jessica was long dead now; there was nothing that could be done. My head was still angled back so I had a decent view of the room surrounding Tanya. There was a port cup on the end table from when I brought myself up a glass of water just a bit off to my right. It was no real protection against a gun or a knife but it was something. All I needed was the nerve to dive for it.

"In the end I would have had to kill her anyway, so there's truly no real harm done—just done in a different order that I had planned. And she put up a lot more of a fight than you will. Given the hour and the darkness I must have looked like a burglar. She fought me like the devil so I give her credit where it is due—I still have bruises, but I know you're not going to give me as much trouble—"

I slammed her across the face with the tumbler. The heavy glass shattered but I was already sprinting, running for my life as Tanya roared with rage. I didn't remember much about the layout of the old house but even in my panic I managed to rocket down the stairs. I heard Tanya behind me, but I had a good head start and ran as fast as I could. I slid on the last flight though, going down hard as I skidded down a few steps, losing precious moments. I scrambled to my feet artlessly, and by the time I was moving again I saw the catsuit on the next landing.

My eyes darted this way and that as I flew through the dining room, the living room, but I found no means of escape. I could take the window route, but too much time would be lost in unlatching, lifting the screen and climbing out. Tanya's thundering footsteps were inching closer and closer as I searched, getting louder, and at the last minute—I stumbled through the front door of the kitchen that led into a murky, snow-lit outdoors. The wind swept my hair from my shoulders and blew it wildly to my left, blinding me temporarily as I blanched at my view. As far as the eye could see was carpeted in a thick white blanket. It snowed harder than I thought. There wasn't even evidence of footsteps entering the house; the tracks had been buried. And as the snow continued to fall in sheets I recognized that I was in deep shit.

Fucking great.

I started my way down the stairs, fighting my way through the heavy wet snow, but it was too late. I was halfway down when Tanya caught up with me, grabbing my hair at the nape of my neck, twisted me backward, and flung my stunned body down the steps and into a knee-length pile of snow. I lay immobilized in the snow, staring up at the sky as globs of the flurry fell and clung to me. Had there been even an inch less of the stuff covering the ground I would have probably gone comatose or bled my brain out.

"Bitch," Tanya spat, crawling over my motionless body, kicking the snow away from us as she straddle me. Her face was covered in blood. I didn't see where I struck her but wherever it was it would leave a nice scar. She was panting unintelligibly in my face, in Swede, as she leaned over me and retrieved a small but capable knife. She cursed angrily at me for a moment, then slowly dragged the tip of the knife from the skin of my right temple down to the bottom of my cheek. I think I screamed but I couldn't be sure, and as I struggled beneath her I could only see her head thrown back as her shoulders shook with laughter. I flung my arms out to protect myself but I didn't even connect. She screamed at me once more, and, so abruptly I didn't think to defend, she struck my throat with her entire fist, and then pulled my arms under her legs.

I blanked out for a minute or so, my vision blurring and my hearing failing completely before I slowly resurfaced to hear Tanya say, "…make you suffer. You don't deserve to rest in peace. I pray to the God you worship that your ghost haunts me every day of my lifetime. Brace yourself, Cherie."

And then multiple accounts of pain bombarded me at once—my arms, legs, chest—as the clothes were ripped and shred from my body, blasts of cold air chilling my skin before it was warmed by the torrents of my blood, then burning, and in some places I felt this cycle multiple times.

I lost consciousness more than once, and each time Tanya would slap my bruised face till I was brought back to hell on earth. The smell of charred flesh and the screaming had to be the worst parts of it all. In my mind, I had the felt the pain enough to become accustomed to it, but I had zero control of how I reacted to each new scar. My lungs consistently exhaled the agony I was experiencing, and always my lungs would fill with the sickening scent of burning skin and each time I inhaled I staved off the screams at much as possible, and each time Tanya would drive the knife deeper, hold her lighter closer, scream louder.

It was as the blade pressed just to the left of where my heart was that I closed my eyes and resigned to death, no longer brave.

"Tanya! That's enough!"

My reaction was involuntary; completely irrepressible. I bawled—LOUD. I cried so loud my throat was raw and I didn't stop until Tanya once again slapped the skin off my cheek. It couldn't be him—it wasn't. How could it be? He was the one who'd set this all up. He wanted me dead. He no longer wanted to be accountable for me. I understood that. So why was he here now, stopping her? Why was the crunch of his footsteps in the snow coming closer and closer?

Why did I pray to every God in the book that Edward was trying to save me?

"Go away, koppar bjorn!" Tanya said reverting back to English, her voice eerily calm though her hand had halted. "You know this is best for us all, yes? You know this is for best. I can end it all here and now. Simple, walk away and leave us be."

"No, Tanya. Leave her alone." The voice was closer, calmer now, and there was no way I could stop the tread of tears. No matter how coaxing Edward was Tanya didn't seem to want to back off of that ledge.

"You are defending her?" she screeches. "You are mad, Edward! Look what she has done to your wife!"

He says nothing; I hear another crunch in the snow.

"GET AWAY!"

"I can't do that," Edward tells her softly.

"I am going to kill her. I am going to kill her and be congratulated. Caius will be most proud of me, no? So why will my husband not support me?" Her voice breaks, and her grip on the knife becomes loose. "WHY DO YOU STOP ME, HUSBAND?"

"Because this isn't right, she isn't your responsibility. Put the knife down before I get angry, Tanya."

"No," she screeched, and once again her drive returned to her. "Make your choice, koppar bjorn. The little American girl or—" Her voice cut off at the sound of a muffled gun and she looked down quickly in surprise. "Shit," she muttered, and suddenly her body slumped backward, falling out of my vision with a quiet thud as she hit the snow, a bright crimson trail snaking towards me as I held my breath. Somehow I found it in me to scramble away from her dead body and closer to Edward's feet. I stared up at him through wet, frozen lashes but he wasn't even looking in my direction. It was as if I wasn't even there. I didn't touch him.

He sidestepped me, and slogged over to where Tanya lay, bending down and effortlessly lifting her limp body in his arms. "Tyvärr, kärlek," (Sorry, love) he whispered into her strawberry-blonde curls, then gave me his back as he slowly marched up the porch steps and into the house.

When he remerged my head was quite literally buried under at least two inches of snow and I was shaking like a prostitute during Mardi Gras. I considered opening my mouth to tell this ass that I was in fact freezing to death, but I was in a blinding amount of pain and I could barely part my lips to allow my teeth to chatter. So, with very little strength left about me, I watched lifelessly as Edward ambled down the stairs and walked towards me. It's as he stopped right before me that I gave into the gentle black shadow at my side.

…

...

..

…

I was trapped, stifled by an overwhelming blind darkness, weighed down by it. It took everything from me; my sight, my breath, and all that was about me was the darkness and the asphyxiating stench of blood and death, and I saw Tanya lying there in a pool of crimson, in her favorite catsuit, surrounded by the brilliant white powder of the winter. I was stuck there, beside her, staring down at her, watching the life be drained from her eyes as she bled out onto the snow, watching me as I did her, screaming at me, taking me to hell with her. And I followed her, blindly, out into the darkness where I couldn't see, couldn't think or breathe, couldn't scream…

"If you don't calm down I'll be forced to break your neck."

I didn't even think about it. I turned to the voice, gaped at it, then fell into his arms, pressing my face into his shoulder, clinging to him, shaking so hard I was sure my bones would shatter. That I would shatter from the need to scream.

There was only a brief second's hesitation before his arms came around my back, pulling me into a tight, unrelenting embrace. He was so powerful and so warm. The safety promised there in his hold was intoxicating, I wanted to bottle it, patent it and make millions.

He put his hand against the back of my head, stroking my hair gently. "Breathe," he whispered in my ear, like a lover. "Just breathe slowly, calm deep breaths. There you go."

I hadn't realized that I was holding my breath. His hand cupped my chin, his thumb tenderly stroking my throat, as if he were trying to massage the breath back into me. I took a deep, shuddering gasp, and then another, and another, and another, and then I was breathing Edward's air, my lips clasped so tightly around his that I would leave a mark if I moved any closer. The hand behind my head fisted into my hair for a second, then relaxed and cradled my skull to pull me away. I panted wildly, resting my forehead against his as I fought for more oxygen. I couldn't possibly get enough.

There was a buzzed silence, save for the sound of my labored breaths and his slight panting. I opened my eyes slowly expecting to be met with nothing but darkness again, but taken for a whirl being met with smoky green irises.

A hesitant hand reached up to my cheek to pull strands of hair behind my ear. I reached up as well, then froze as shocks of pain wriggled up my spine and through my fingertips. I whimpered.

"You shouldn't be doing much moving around, you know. You'll ruin the salves I dressed you with."

Salves? I looked down shortly and struggled to peer past the black. It was no use; it was just too dark.

"Lie down, Isabella. You need more r—"

"Where were you?" I looked up now, straight ahead, hoping to appear to be facing him but unsure. If I couldn't communicate with the eyes then all I had was tone.

His response was slow, unhurried, as if it took him a minute to think of an answer. "I've been working."

"Working?" I echoed incredulously. "Working…where?"

"I have a life outside of you, Bella," he murmured. "Had would be more correct though."

His words shouldn't have stung me but they did. I brush it off quickly enough to let it slip past him. "You…Edward, you left me for an entire month without even…telling me or-or-or calling, sending a letter, a messenger, whatever. What the hell is with that?" Have you simply given up caring? Was I right in believing that you'd given up on me, Edward?

"Why do you say that as if I owe you something, Isabella? Would it have made the time pass a little faster, perhaps?"

"So you're mocking me now?" My voice shook a little and I was dangerously close to the point of tears. How cruel-hearted he was.

He sighed, and there was a bit of shuffling and movement from his direction. I pulled myself up into a sitting position and flinched as another trend of intense discomfort hit.

"Lie down, Bella."

"Where are we?"

"In a car."

"Where?" I emphasized.

"Does it matter right now? Why are you being stubborn? Lie down like I'm telling you."

"No."

I don't need to see him to know that my rebellion pisses him off; I can feel the hot wave of ire float off of him as my tenacity irks him.

"Do you know what the time is?" I asked offhand. I felt a sickening ache in my lower right ribcage just then. My hand flew to the spot to apply a bit of pressure but I kept up a poker face just in case he could see better than I could.

"Hurts, doesn't it," he said, followed by more shuffling. I sniffed and he gave a quick deep chuckle. "Won't you lay down, Bella? For just a few minutes? There are stitches on your head and arms that I can't afford to have you rip. Down, girl."

Stitches, too? I frowned and was just leaning back to acquiesce when I paused. "Turn on a light first," I bartered. "I don't like the idea of being defenseless with you in the dark."

He snorted. "And you aren't defenseless now? Fine. Down. Now."

I lay back slowly, carefully, and Edward pulled my legs up gently on the seat so I was perfectly horizontal, then fulfilled his half of the bargain by turning on the second row's overhead light. It blinds me for a few seconds but when I stood to tolerate it I immediately looked up to Edward, soaking up every inch of what was available to me like a barren sponge. It had been too long; much too long since I'd seen him, and as I stared at him I gradually recalled what state I was in at our last union.

"What's on your mind, Swan?" he asked, pointing his chin toward my very hot face.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "Uh…I know last time I saw you I was…," I sighed, "a little less than attractive."

His brows furrowed briefly before flying up, then back down again before he settled on just lifting one. "Maybe next time when I say no more than four glasses you'll listen."

"Yes," I nodded sheepishly.

"And maybe next time you will also listen when I tell you not to get yourself killed, yes?"

I dug into my lip nervously, my chin at my chest as I avoided his gaze now, all fire and fury. "I didn't have any other choice," I mumbled.

"Oh, you had a choice, Isabella, and that choice was to wait for me until I came back to get you."

"You don't think I waited patiently enough for you, Edward? A month. An entire month went by that I waited, shoe tapping, for you to come back to Volterra, and I was left wanting until the time came where I had to move on my own. They were going to kill me."

"I am aware of that—"

"Are you now?"

"—but when I tell you to wait I'm not doing so just for the romantic feel of it, Bella. What if I hadn't come for you when I did yesterday? Do you really think you would be lying here defending your point to me? You lucked out. Next time you will not be so lucky."

"Yesterday?"

"You've been asleep for a while. You fell unconscious after I retrieved you from the countryside but when you woke up you went into shock and I actually did have to knock you out for a spell."

I took a deep breath and sighed, wincing as my ribcage pulsed. "So how bad am I?"

"She was pretty thorough, I must admit. She looked pretty determined to slice every inch of you up and she nearly succeeded. There are lacerations just about everywhere on your body and half of those are burned using a flame. The ends of your hair are charred as well so I'll have to give you a cut before we go on our way. I'm surprised you're not still asleep. I was enjoying the quiet."

"So…" I started gently, "how are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"How are you?" I say again. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm not sure of what you're getting at," he shook his head, and either he was being purposefully obstinate or his heart was made of stone.

"You…Edward, you killed your wife." I paused. "I'm not sure why you chose my life over hers but I know you have to be hurting, right? It's okay to say so. You don't have to act all macho every hour of the day, you know."

"If you know that I am hurting than you must not know me very well, which I find furthest from a problem."

"You're joking."

"I'm not."

I pursed my mouth, somewhat phased at his calm and deciding to back the conversation down to lower grounds where I wouldn't push him over. "So…you're fine? You know, after murdering your wife? You're completely conscience free?" But I couldn't resist a little poking.

"I believe so." He grinned deviously and leaned back to put his feet up so out legs were side by side. He crossed his ankles and looking the perfect picture of ease, put his arms behind his head.

"Incredible," I scoffed.

"Well I wouldn't say I'm incredible—"

"How can you even set yourself up to pass a joke right now?" I demanded seriously. "You shot your wife."

"I've said it before haven't I? I like to finish what I have started, regardless of whom or what gets in my way. Tanya was aware if this; she knew where I stood in terms of getting you back to the Americans and she disregarded this. She understood the consequence of her actions. She ended up paying for it in the end."

"But she was your wife," I said quietly, as if this fact escaped him.

"Only on paper," was his response. How romantic. "You seem not to care very much for my decision to save you." As I stared at him over the slight hill of my chest I seemed pinned to my seat under his steel gaze. "Would you rather I picked Tanya so the two of us could live again as man and wife, to have let her just kill you?"

My mouth dried at the thought. What if he had picked Tanya over me? "You know I'm thankful to you, Edward…"

"Say it."

"Th-thank you…" I stuttered. "Really. It doesn't make sense that you chose me, no…but thank you."

His grin grew with every second as we kept our eyes locked and I hated to the very marrow in my bones that he was taking my gratitude as a joke.

"I know you're thankful, Isabella," he said reading my mind, turning his head to look out the black tinted windows into nothing, grin gone. "You can stop looking at me like you want to commit a homicide."

I lifted my chin, placated for now. I also turned to look out the window, squinting for my life, struggling to peer past the raging blizzard outside though it was even harder since I was on my back.

"So will you tell me what you've been up to since our last meeting?" I asked after a long burst of silence.

He side-eyed me, shaking his head minutely as he held it in his hand. My self-control was not my own as I leered openly at his jaw, as I scanned over every slight blade of stubble that stood there. My tongue wriggled against the confines of my clenched teeth as the sudden yearning to put my mouth where his hand was surged and swelled. I sighed longingly then quickly manipulated the noise into a cough when his curious gaze caught mine, and I still couldn't help fawning over him. I blushed to my roots seeing the corner of his mouth tug up at my idiocy.

"Did I just catch you ogling me, Mrs. Swan?" he teased looking me dead on.

Good God, the way his mouth wrapped around my name was incredible. I swallowed the torrent of saliva that was bound to turn into drool and coughed again. "No, I just have never seen you grow facial hair. I'm actually surprised that you can at all."

"That's funny. No, I grow facial hair just fine. It grows rather quickly, to be quite honest with you. I have to shave it every morning to maintain my boyish good looks."

"Ha!"

"I'm not joking. It's too cold out here for me to put a blade to my face unless I want to cut myself. By the time my beard come's in we'll be gone from here and I can shave it off and you will have been the only person on the planet to have seen Edward Anthony with facial hair."

"What an honor." I hesitantly cross my ankles as he did his, and wiggle my toes a bit, the scratch of fur alarming me that these aren't my shoes. I also roll my shoulders but it's hard; like lifting lead weights. My entire body is fatigued and lazy, dull and achy, as I experimentally moved my separate joints and limbs. These clothes aren't mine, the shoes aren't mine. Whose are they? Please don't be hers.

"Why are you so restless?" Edward sighed, leaning his joined feet over so one of them tapped my thigh. "Lie down; stop moving."

"I'm cold," I grumbled, and it was true. My hands felt like I'd been bobbing for icicles recently. I lifted my right arm cautiously and snaked under the bottom stitch of his jeans to slide my hand up his leg. He didn't even flinch to my disappointment. I frowned at his darkening eyes and waggled my frozen digits against his skin, soaking up some of his warmth through his leg hair.

"Enough," he snapped, and I stopped immediately. "You dropped your blankets in your sleep. Here." He leans over me to the floor to pick up a cluster of thick blankets and my eyes are attached to him. He took his time collecting the mountain and I groaned softly as his ribcage stretches against the fabric of his thin shirt. He didn't look at me but I saw the corner of his mouth once again wind up in amusement. I shook my knees under his chest, jostling him for being a tease. I heard the faint laugh of whistling through his nose as he righted himself and that dirty smirk lit up his entire face as he spread the covers over my arms and down the rest of me.

"Thank you," I muttered, burying myself under the blankets to hide my scarlet face.

It wasn't enough. Maybe an hour passed as my hands shook and my teeth chattered but I wasn't getting warm. As if I was projecting my thoughts on the radio for the entire car to hear I felt Edward climb over me and off of the seat. My head popped up from under the covers straightaway and our eyes met as he lifted me into his arms, pushed me so I was sideways against the back of the chair, and pulled me to his chest as he lay beside me.

It only took a second before instinct waved away the numb in my body and took over. I kicked my shoes off hastily, one at a time as my feet fumbled over each other, and entangled my legs with his. I gathered my arms, removing them from his chest and shoving them beneath his shirt, right into the patch of chest hair on his sternum.

The heat, I reasoned. It must be the heat. It made me crazy, and as my mouth pulled and tugged on Edward's in a clumsy, passionate war I became hotter and hotter. I didn't even know that I had kissed him. His hands tangled into my hair in a harsh grip as he crushed me to him, and we were so close I was practically on top of him. His tongue traced the shape of my lips slowly, languorously, as if committing it to memory, and I groaned, granting him the access he asked for. His left hand drifted from my head and down my back, pulling me closer to him, then lower, over my backside, squeezing. I moaned into his mouth and moved my hands around his torso to his back, my nails digging into his skin, wrenching him against me so our chests were lined.

I missed him so much; I missed him so much it was like losing a part of myself. Too long, I wailed in my head. He was away too long. I missed you!

My hands find their way back to his front and up, over his shoulders, his neck, onto his jaw where I cradle and pepper his face with kisses, not missing an inch. His breath fanned against my skin in a soft, caressing whisper and I broke down; I could hold it in no longer.

"I missed you so much," I sobbed against his neck, throwing my arms around him and his arms ensnare my waist in a death grip, his mouth going to my ear to hush my cries. They wracked my body, my tears, and thank God I had something holding me up because there was no way I would have been able to support myself. Even in my bawling I didn't stop. My lips moved sloppily across the skin of his neck and throat and my hands scratching at his scalp; maybe even a little too roughly.

"I need you," I whispered in his ear, drawing away so my hands could fall between us. I found the hem of his jeans and pulled it towards me, my other hand fumbling against the silver button as I struggled to undo it. "I need you so much, Edward, please."

"No," he said softly.

The word was like a barrage of splinters in my heart but I kept going, kept pleading. I kissed him once more, pushing my lips against him but his urgency was gone. He was simply gentle now, allowing…

Pitying…

"Please, Edward. Please! Please. Please…" What was I asking for? For him? For his body? What did I want? What the fuck is wrong with this button!

I looked down between us, hoping to just rip the damn thing off with my teeth only to see Edward's hand covering mine, holding my fingers in his. I stiffened reflexively, my blood running cold. I gasped a lungful of air and held it then brought my eyes to his. His eyes. His eyes. So many secrets they held; so many unspoken words. I've probably spent a collection of hours gazing into his green depths yet I've never been more held than I am at this moment. I saw myself reflected in his dark gaze; it disgusted me, I wanted to look away.

I didn't. I couldn't. Because of him.

Because of Edward.

A single hot, fat tear rolled down my cheek as I stared at him. He moved then, his hand on mine large and warm, and slowly transferred them both up and onto his chest, and flattened my hand over the skin there. I watched, transfixed, as he leaned forward unhurriedly, holding my gaze the entire time, and so tenderly it damn near broke my soul pressed his lips against mine. His eyes, still, never left mine, and I felt as if my lungs would collapse under the weight emotion that gushed through me, as if my bones would fragment from the pressure of it all.

"Stop crying." His voice was soft, comforting, but there was authority in his words. Tears put him out if his element I was sure. "Use my shirt," he offered, and I nodded, swiping under my nose quickly and mumbling an apology afterward.

As we lied there in a charged, unsure silence I began to feel a pulsing here and there around my body. My belly, the top of my thighs, beneath my arm, the throbbing of my jaw. It became uncomfortable, then irritating, before finally falling into the insufferable category. Edward scooted himself off of the seat and shushed me harshly as I protested. The light farthest from my side was switched on and Edward looked over me, down the entire expanse of my body. He lifted my shirt just below my breasts and rolled the leg of unfamiliar jeans up to my knees. My sleeves were rolled up, shoes taken off my feet. I felt a buzzing in my arm and without much thought lifted it to assess the spot, and I gasped. From the top of my bicep down, wrapping around my elbow, was a deep red slash, angry and puckered and covered in a thick, greenish gunk, the edges of the cut an ugly black-maroon.

"Tanya?" I whispered.

"Tanya."

"And it's like this…everywhere?"

"Yes," he said.

I nodded.

Minutes passed emptily as the wind raged and thrashed against our small haven in the middle of nowhere before Edward finally dragged his eyes away from mine. I gasped as quietly as possible as he once again lifted me into his arms and lay out on the bench beside me.

"Comfy?" he asked.

"Somewhat," I muttered.

"Good." He lifted the hand that rest on my hip up the curve of my back and over my shoulder. His fourth finger danced across my cheekbone, then deftly tucked my wild hair behind my ear as he leaned in, and that silky-smooth quality that only Edward possesses whispered, "This may hurt a bit."

My brow furrowed, then shot up as I felt a pinch on the back of my elbow.

"What the hell—?" His mouth was on mine. Moving, pushing, pulling. Dominating. There wasn't a space on my body that wasn't touching his. The breath had long left my body after the urge to pull away found me but Edward seemed to be completely fine without oxygen. His lips painted kisses across jaw and over my throat. He tangled his hand in my hair, wrapped it up in his fist and gave a mighty jerk, yanking himself out of my line of vision. I moaned wantonly as I felt his tongue roll across my clavicle.

"Edward," I panted.

"Hush." And I did, tearing into my lip with my teeth as his mouth continued the assault on my battered and bruised body. His kisses were like the most potent pain killer on the planet. I felt a shift within my head then, my vision blurring into two parts and conjoining again. Sleep—it called my name so sweetly.

But, my mind protested, Edward's mouth! It was a whine, petulant and defiant to go into that lulling abyss that loomed over me. My eyes fluttered shut heavily as Edward kissed the corner of my mouth, my lower lip then the upper one. I clutched the fabric of his shirt in my hands and held on for dear life, as if he were an anchor.

"Let go, Cherie." His whisper was so commanding and deep that I almost did, but I jostled myself awake when my grip on him faltered.

"What the hell d'you do to me?" I slurred.

"Hm?"

"D'you to me? Tranquilizer under your tongue? I'm numb. …'very where. And tired."

"Morphine shot," he breathed as he kissed my neck, just below my ear. "Stop being so stubborn and go to sleep."

"You won't leave me?"

He froze, and I felt his lips curl inward against my skin—he was pursing them. The force dragging me into the black abyss ceased its relentless pull at my question, as if it was curious to know as well. My hands fisted with strength that was not my own as I waited and waited. Anxiety pushed its way into my heart as I waited. Would he leave me again? In the middle of nowhere? I was responsible for the death of his wife, wasn't I? There was no way Mr. Stoic would show it but it was very possible that he resented me now. Could I blame him if he did? My fingers were curled hard enough for my nails to puncture my palms through the fabric of his shirt but the pain was beyond me. The pain in my chest overshadowed that by leaps and bounds.

Seeing Edward's beautiful, symmetrical, impassive face; feeling even an inkling of his skin against mine; breathing in the fresh scent of washed laundry, a summer meadow, and the faint hints of hard liquor and French cigarettes—I couldn't lose this again. Never. I would go anywhere with this man. The security provided by his strong arms and the immediate ease I felt in them could no longer be passed off as a simple crush. I'd developed something far worse, far more complicated during the time we'd spent together, the time we'd spent apart. A captive's complex.

Full blown Stockholm Syndrome.

Edward's eyes lifted to mine then, flicking back and forth between my own before his hand rose to my cheek and the pad of his thumb scrolled over the curve. The pain in my chest lifted like a weightless veil as the tip of his nose rubbed against mine and the inaudible breath of, "I promise," washed over me. I let the abyss take me.

...

..

...

.

* * *

Author's Note: This is taking longer than t'was its original intent but we're nearing the end folks. I promise something soon in my disadvantaged state.

Love hugs and Blood kisses, y'all!


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note:** No, your eyes do not deceive you; yes, this is an update. I want to thank ALL of you guys from the bottom of my heart for your good health wishes. I really do mean to reply to ALL and not some but my mind flickers in and out when it comes to remembering what the hell I'm doing or what to even say to you sweethearts...

I had some down time so I have produced for you! Nothing very serious this chapter. Lord-y, I think we all need a break from the angst train so this is E and B "attempted" snuggle time, short and sweet. Enjoy y'all!

* * *

Chapter 24: Hot and Cold

"I smell terrible. How is it that you smell like you've just taken a dip in an ethereal pine scented, glittering marsh hot tub and I smell like garbage? Do you have baby wipes hidden somewhere in here?"

"In fact I do. I'm beyond a little stunned that you know that."

"You can take your smoldering eyes and baby scented feet over there, sir. Cut it out. Stop. Edward, stop kicking me!"

"It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No."

"Good. Then I'll continue to kick you."

"What are you, a teenager? Cut that shit out already."

"I'm bored," he drawled. He slouched in his row of seats and his head lolled onto his shoulder so he was now gazing up at me through those gorgeous lashes. I couldn't help but stare but damn if I didn't look impassive doing it. "Tell me about Bella."

Bored? This was interesting.

I slept like a rock after my morphine shot uncountable hours prior and upon waking up I was met with Edward's long, stretched-to-the-limit sigh. Naturally, my mind was still very caught up with the latest conversation we'd had but it was general knowledge that resurfacing the topic in anyway so soon after wouldn't work to my advantage.

_I promise._

How many times had he promised me something? How often did he actually pull through for me? I couldn't pin down a number in my head but his success ratio was commendable so far. The fact that I was still here, alive, was testament to that. No matter, I still had very much I wanted to say to him, so many questions still left to be asked but I refrained. Edward seemed to be in good enough spirits so I would do my best to keep the mood light as well.

I snorted. "There's nothing to tell."

"Nonsense. 26 years of life is plenty time to accumulate some fond memories. Share with me, wife."

I flinched. Why was I more hurt by the death of his real wife than he was? When would I ever be able to build my bridge over her? Enough was enough at this point.

_With time, _my mind sighed. _Time and a few bottles of the hard stuff. _

If Edward noticed my reaction he didn't let on, but those green, calculating eyes saw everything, I was sure.

"Umm…" I let the hum carry for about ten seconds as I drummed my fingers against my thighs to come up with a starting point.

"Tell me about your mother," he suggested lightly.

I shook my head. "There really isn't much to tell. Anyone _besides _me would be able to testify for her better than I can."

"Why is that?"

I shrugged.

"Was it her performance?" Peculiar choice of words, I noted.

"I'm not saying she was a bad parent; I just wouldn't call how I was raised in her home 'parenting'. It was more of a 'learning on the go' type of thing. If anything my stepfather was the one who parented. Renee just didn't know what to do."

"Do you resent her for that?" I startled slightly at Edward's soft tone. "For your mother not having a more active role in your life? Do you feel any resentment that she was so…"

"Capricious?" I offered. "Not even a little. Of course she had an active role in my life. She taught me plenty, more than I can probably remember. I just wouldn't take any of her advice and apply it professionally, is all. No one would hire me."

"So what did she teach you?"

"About the whimsical parts of life," I smiled. "She taught me not to take everything so seriously and to see the silver lining in things. My dad, Charlie, is who I picked up my solemn face from. Until I had finally moved to Forks for the long haul I remember that he carried the grimmest expression, and that everything had to be looked at as if it would have this sort of dire impact on your life.

"There was one particular summer," I reminisced, "where we went to the supermarket and we were there for hours. We only went about twice a month because Charlie didn't need much to survive on, but I love to cook, as you already know, so he gave me the honor of taking a third trip in less than 30 days. Normal shopping and all, usual stuff, but what was unusual about it was how Charlie was comparing packages _of the same brand, same size, and same price, _to each other, like a mad man I tell you." I laughed. "When I say we were there from noon until the sun went down I am not kidding, as if the difference of one or two missing chicken nuggets was going to be his early death. That same summer I laid down the law that I was shopping by myself from then on."

"You miss your dad," Edward surmised after I calmed down.

"Obviously," I shrugged, the recollection of when I called his voicemail in Volterra making an annoying appearance in the back of my mind. "I mean, hell yeah. I know you probably found some way to reassure him that I'm fine but it's me worried about him."

"You two were close." It wasn't a question. I nodded.

"I called him every day after I moved out, just to check on him, ya know? It's not that I didn't think he could take care of himself. He's well capable of that—he's the chief of police!" I explained as if that spoke volumes. "I just…for the three years that we lived together, all of the life lessons that I missed growing up with Renee, besides from what I taught myself, I got from Charlie. Moving from place to place with Renee and Phil to follow my stepfather's career; adjusting to new schools constantly; having to be a ping pong ball between my mother and father every year—Charlie was my rock. My strong, sturdy, protective rock. He never switched homes, even after my mom left; he never required to go out every weekend to 'get away from the world'. He was content with a can of beer and a Mariner's game. And me. He was content…with me. I was perfect however I came to him. He was my home and I was his."

I found myself drowning in tears by the time my mouth stopped moving. My chest was too sensitive to handle the force of wracking sobs right now so I settled for fat, silent tears. Edward didn't move an inch from his spot on the seat opposite of me, he just watched, letting me have my moment. I liked that Edward didn't rush to my side whenever I had an episode; he let me deal with my demons by myself, not forcing anything.

"Sorry," I muttered sheepishly when I was done.

"Your mother…she likes to travel? Or does she only do it for your stepfather? Don't most women want to plant their roots somewhere, permanently?"

"Um." I dabbed a corner of my blanket under my eye. "Renee isn't most women. Planting roots means to stop moving. That doesn't appeal to her in the least."

"A family…I mean, a bigger one?"

I mashed my lips together and lifted an eyebrow at him. Indifferent as always, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice, his questions. Innocence? A slight bit of that, but there was something so…boyish about his expression. And then I thought of Esme.

The blood slowly drained from my face and I was sure I must have looked like a ghost. Fuck. Why hadn't I asked Esme about Edward's mother? And even on the completely plausible chance that she didn't know anything, why hadn't I asked Carlisle about it? Fuck, fuck, fuck. I had half of my puzzle complete but it was the easiest part. Looking at the box just wouldn't be enough to solve the other half. I'd tried to broach the subject with Edward before but that was a complete disaster.

_Piss off_, he'd said. My nose crinkled at the thought. No, asking wouldn't be effective at all. Dammit.

Like the one he'd given me earlier, I gave Edward one long, stretched-to-the-limit sigh. I would, I decided then, give him his space on this, on his familial issues. As it stood, I had nothing to do with any of it, and even with the title of "Wife" under my belt, it was basic mathematics that Edward had little to no intentions of sharing with me. That was okay. That was fair. I could now, happily, abandon this edge of the puzzle and begin on another. I would get there eventually, I swore to myself.

But just one more try. Just this once and I would leave it all alone, until he offered it up himself.

"Umm," I hummed, again with the humming. "She doesn't want any more kids. She loves me, but she claims taking care of me was one of the hardest things she ever did. So dramatic that woman is," I shook my head. "Having to be responsible for the first time in your life probably would be the hardest thing for anyone, I guess."

"You're wondering about my mother, aren't you?"

"Yes," I admitted, flabbergasted.

Well that was a lot fucking easier than I thought. What the high hell? I was almost sure he could read minds now. I pictured in my mind's eye first a bag of peanuts, then a head of lettuce, and, quite uncouthly, switched the slide to the delectable memory of Edward's gorgeous ass from our dry hump in Volterra as he sauntered into the bathroom.

No reaction, sadly.

"Like you, there isn't very much to tell," he said leaning back into his seat, folding his arms behind his head. "You know this already but I only knew her up until I was seven. Terrible person, awful mother, but she had beautiful hair; flawless skin."

"Must've passed that onto you." I flopped. I slammed my mouth shut watching Edward's eyebrow quirk up at me, then breathed a sigh of relief when he smirked. "I didn't mean to interrupt. Go 'head."

"I've said all there is to say."

"Do you resent her for abandoning you so young?" I asked gently.

"What makes you think she left me?" His glare had me backtracking so hard I almost broke a sweat.

"I-I hadn't meant to…assume! I just…I-I, uh…"

"Alright," he snickered. "Alright, calm down."

I scowled.

"I just no longer wanted to be in her tracks, Isabella. Everything about that woman pissed me off to no end, and after seven years of putting up with her, I left. I haven't regretted it a single day of my life, and she probably didn't notice for a good month and a half."

"And your aunt? The one with the drug problem?"

He shrugged. "I honestly can't recall the slightest detail about her other than the fact that she was pretty expensive." He had the nerve to turn and smirk at me. God, he had a twisted sense of humor.

Shit or bust time.

"And your father?" I whispered. My question was just a breath on the wind but, once again, Edward picked up on it flawlessly.

His reaction was immediate. He stiffened, the muscles in his arm rolling and tensing; the half-smile that had just graced his face was now bent into a sneer. There was a heartbreaking distance in his eyes now, something cold and alien and unwanted. He didn't want to answer me. That fact dripped off his countenance. But he couldn't just keep running away from me like he was. This circle that we were chasing each other in was becoming more and more exhausting by the day, whether we were in each other's presence or not. He could say or do to me whatever he wanted but Heaven forbid I ask him a question.

I swung my legs out over the bench and pushed off the seat with my hands, wincing as a few cracks and splinters of pain ran up and down my bruised body. Toughen it out, Swan. My left leg went over the both of his first before I lay myself out across him, our chests aligned near perfectly, the tip of my nose against the edge of his jaw as I looked up at him and waited for him to acknowledge me. There was slight stubble there, where our faces met, and my tongue pushed and pushed against my clenched teeth to reach out for just a taste. I would be bleeding in not too long if he didn't dammit look at me soon.

Alas, it didn't take as long as I thought it would. A measly two minutes where he sighed, dropped an arm from behind his head and curled it around my waist, then pulled me up slightly. I flinched just a little at a particular sore spot over my rib. He stared over my head for a while longer, then dropped his eyes to mine. I couldn't help myself. I stroked the backs of my fingers across the rough, short hairs that stood against his cheekbones and leaned up, offering myself to him.

The bait was taken as he pressed his lips against mine, softly at first then harder as my hands went around his neck and into his hair. I scratched lightly, knowing that he liked when I did that and reveled in his throaty groan as he pulled me flat against him. His tongue traced my inner lips and we were soon nothing but wet, touch, and teeth. Hands were everywhere; clothes were being pulled up and smidgens of skin against skin found each other in the most random of places. Oh, how had I lasted an entire month without this?

"I don't want to talk about my father, Isabella," he breathed against my lips. "Not now."

"Okay," I panted. There was no need to push him so long as he kept me distracted like this. "Are you still bored?"

He grinned and I couldn't help but grin back.

"I don't believe I am, Mrs. Masen."

My smile deflated in record time. "Don't think I've so easily forgiven you about that, Mr. Masen. We still need to talk."

"There isn't much that needs to be said."

"Oh, there is, and one of those things needed to be said is, 'I'm sorry for lying to you, Bella. It was a practical decision.' The second you say that it's almost guaranteed that I'll forgive you."

"Too bad I'm not seeking out your forgiveness. I'm saving your life. How much more do you think I owe you?" he snorted.

I gaped at him. His mouth was tenderly nipping at the skin beneath my ear and on my neck. I jerked out of his reach and shoved myself off of him, climbing and fumbling back into my seat, crossing my arms and legs and completely ignoring the nonchalant stare aimed at me.

"Is there a problem, Isabella?" His tone was condescending.

"Fuck. You."

"Is that a yes?"

I ignored him.

"Suit yourself."

…

..

….

.

"Hungry?"

"No," I bristled.

He shrugged. "Don't move. If you even think about running, I will break every bone in your body and toss you in the trunk."

I pretended to not hear him, but the second I saw him roll off the seat and reach for the door handle my resolve broke.

"Where are you going?" I demanded.

"Out."

"Out where?"

"Under the car," he sighed.

"Can I come?"

"Absolutely not. It is below 10 degrees out there and you have open wounds. Relax; I'll be back in a minute or so."

I pursed my lips and searched his face for even a hint of what he was thinking. I saw nothing, as always. He was the master of the poker face. "Fine," I grumbled. "You have two minutes. If you're not back in this car I'm coming out after you."

Disapproval etched all over his profile but he gave a noncommittal grunt, opened the door, and slammed it behind him as his figure disappeared in this howling white fog of snow outside. Not even a few seconds passed before I was climbing over to his seat with my face pressed against the glass, searching for him.

He faded into the black seamlessly.

He was just breaching two minutes when he came back into view. He busted the door open, ignoring the fact that I was against it, and climbed back into his seat, panting and puffing air out of his cheeks. I set about collecting the numerous blankets strung about the floor and wrapped them around his shoulders, then removed his not-so-fancy sneakers and socks.

"Come here, Bella."

"Why, what's wrong?" I proffered my hand regardless of the answer and he dragged me on top of him over the blankets. I rubbed his shoulders furiously over the covers and circled my thumbs behind his jaw. I leaned my forehead against his and just continued to do everything in my power to keep him from contracting hypothermia for the next few minutes.

"Thank you," he muttered in a gruff voice. My shock is replaced by…well, nothing as I stare into his darkened eyes. Gratitude was certainly something of a rarity from him but this look…it made my bones melt.

"You're welcome," I breathed. "What did you go out for?"

"Food."

"Outside?"

"I had fruits stored under the car. They're chilled. I thought they would make a lovely breakfast. I was waiting for you to tell me you were hungry," he said, "but apparently you've lost feeling in your stomach. I will be ambassador of it, then, and make the estimation that it would like something now?"

Oh…that look. "I bet it would," I swallowed.

"Let me feed them to you," he breathed.

"I'm not a child."

"Up. Sit beside me, _Cherie_."

I pick myself up and roll to his side, not moving too far away from him, sharing my heat. He produced a simple brown bag from beneath the covers and shook it a bit for me to hear the rattling of the items therein. His hands were shaking as it was as he attempted to reach in.

"Please let me do it." I snatched the bag out of his hands and pleaded with him to sit on them. He seemed genuinely appalled by this but listened nonetheless. The paper bag was slightly wet and weathered. I slid myself under one layer of Edward's blankets and set to prying the bag apart. As if it was absolute instinct, my body began wrapping itself around his. I entangled our legs together, running the arch of my foot up the curve of his calf; I tucked myself into his side; I flipped my hair over my shoulder so we were both covered in the wild, uneven and burned strands. He didn't seem to mind so I didn't bother moving. I just needed him to be warm. His cold nose rubbed against my cheek for a brief moment as my hand grazed the first fruit.

"More blood orange? What is it with you and blood oranges?"

"Peel it."

So damn bossy, I muttered bleakly in my head. If I said it out loud he would have probably stuck his frozen hand down my back. I peeled the skin off all the way around.

"Take a slice of the orange and eat it. Slowly."

"I said I'm not hungry."

"For the love of God, don't make me remove my arms from this blanket."

"Alright!" I acquiesced. "Relax, already!"

I didn't make a show of breaking up the slices, and I didn't eat the orange slowly either. I hadn't realized just how hungry I was. My stomach hemmed and hawed with each bite I took, threatening a strike if I didn't swallow fast enough. I went through about three oranges like this until Edward's hand flashed out to reclaim the bag. I looked up, dumbfounded as he smirked at me through his lashes.

"Do I look like a grocer's market, Isabella? We only have but so much produce."

"We don't have any more than that?" I was suddenly mortified by my appetite.

He shook the bag, and I heard the distinct noise of two or three objects hitting each other. "This is all we have left for breakfast, yes. We have plenty of other rations though so don't tut. We should be fine for today and tomorrow at least."

"And the next day?" I asked gazing out my window. This storm wasn't one to be messed with. Wasn't it close to the end of March? That's right. This certainly wasn't America, and even there we had out fair spurts of strange weather.

"We don't have to worry about that," he murmured noncommittally, no longer paying me any mind. He was gripping an orange of his own lightly, then in one pierce fit the tip of his thumbnail under the dark skin and began to work the fruit naked.

Lucky fruit.

"Does it always snow in March?" I asked in French.

"Yes, but it does not always snow in April."

"April!"

"Is it necessary for you to shout?" he snapped.

"When does the month end?"

"Tomorrow will be the first."

A nice, sickening wave of nausea took hold of my stomach then. Will time never slow its pace? I was going to become terribly ill if I didn't get some air.

"Can I stand outside for a minute?" I asked shakily.

"No."

"Why not?" How annoying could one man get?

"Because you will freeze to death. Because you have open sores and wounds. Because you are hardly dressed for the weather. Because I said so. You want to risk hypothermia for 'a breath of fresh air'? Not while I'm breathing, Cherie."

_Just one punch,_ my mind bartered. _Just one and I'll never think about it twice again_.

The second I balled my hand Edward's eyes lazily drifted down to the fist, then he looked up at me, a small, smug smile on his face, before returning to his orange.

"You could try but I doubt you'll live long enough to enjoy the satisfaction."

I blistered. "Shut up. My knee's getting itchy over here, Warden. My salves need'a changin'. I believe you're quite warm enough for the both of us now. "

He grunted but otherwise continued slicing into his orange.

"If I catch an infection would you just throw my useless body out into the snow? Or would you hold a personal burial to commemorate your loving wife to the ground?"

"You're not going to catch an infection. Close your mouth."

I did, begrudgingly.

If, exactly one week ago, someone were to have told me that I would have been flirting it up with Mr. Tepid Waters himself I would have called them crazy, and then done some type of rain dance in the shower hearing someone speak of my long lost husband. Yesterday…or a few hours ago…or, whatever…it was as if a door opened up to me. Beyond its threshold lay promises of happiness and clarity. Edward lay behind that door. What exactly did this mean? That I was probably very, very high while on Morphine, but it was my _lucid _decision to take something positive from the dream and apply it.

Everything in me was inclined to make Edward sweat for my repose. I was planning to give him each of the seven realms of hell.

But what would that accomplish?

I would make that gap between us bigger, stretching out that chasm and filling it with mistrust and anger and resentment. He would want to be rid of me quicker, I would want to strangle him more. My instincts had a much more peaceful approach that could only result in good things. I decided to go with that. So far, so good.

"Lie down there," he commanded licking the last of his meal from his fingers. "Lift your shirt up to under your breasts, pull your pants leg up to your thighs, and twist your hair at the nape. Spread your legs half a foot apart, arms above your head. Do you need another shot? Are you sure?"

I nodded as I followed his step by step instructions but shook my head vigorously at the thought of more morphine. I didn't want to sleep—I wanted as much time with Edward as I could possibly have, fighting or otherwise. He threw open the car door to scoop some snow into his hands and washed the sticky juice from his fingers. He climbed into the front seat then, and went through the glove compartment.

"You gonna be a good girl and sit still while I work you over, Mrs. Masen?" he murmured softly as he leaned over me. I pulled my lip between my teeth as he poured alcohol onto a cloth.

"I can try," I muttered. "Be gentle?"

His hand paused midair just as he was about to clean my legs, and he looked up at me from beneath his lashes. "Aren't I always?"

I shrugged and he told me to lie still under his breath. The cloth was surprisingly warm, the alcohol as well. It was below freezing outside and the heat in the car only went on every other hour or so to conserve the battery. My heart warmed at the notion that Edward would go on a limb to warm my medical supplies for me. I would thank him when he was finished. My arms, legs, and face were cleaned up now but he seemed so concentrated on the task at hand I didn't want to disturb.

He lifted me slightly with one arm and turned me on either of my sides as he cleaned me up and I felt a bit like a small child receiving a bath from her father. I wondered if Edward ever wanted children. He would make a suitable male figure I was sure, but it was his patience that would need work.

_Oh my God, _I realized with horror. _How am I even thinking of raising kids with this man right now? _I was instantly chagrined.

"Is there something on your mind? I think your temperature just rose about twenty degrees." He quirked his eyebrow at me but his eyes were still down on his task. He was smoothing a scentless green gunk on each of my cuts with the tips of his fingers. The gel was cool but not uncomfortable. My skin was numbing where the paths were laid.

"No," I lied with a clearing of the throat. "What is this stuff? I've never seen a doctor use this before?"

"You wouldn't have; there are only so many containers of it in the world." And of course you just so happened to have one. "It's an amazing medicine. Clears up nasty scuffs like you wouldn't believe."

"And you won't tell me how you got it or who made it?"

"No."

"Of course."

"Turn over for me."

"Would a 'please' kill you?"

"I almost wish Tanya had pulled your pants off in the snow," he said softly. "I would have loved to massage your arse with the stuff."

I inhaled loudly as the tops of Edward's thumbs stroked the bottom of my behind beneath the edge of my rolled over pants. I kicked out my leg as he did it again and let out a shriek as he swatted me.

"I told you to be still."

"Not an easy task when you're feeling me up," I hissed.

"My apologies," he said with a smile, completely unapologetic.

"I have to pee."

"Can you hold it for long?"

"I've _been _holding it for long."

He sighed. "I suppose I have to take you outside then. The snow's slowed down some. If we don't take too long there shouldn't be much complication. I have to wrap your wounds doubly thick and doubly tight, though," he told me. "You will feel the pressure."

I nodded, and he set to work wrapping me about in pads and gauze. He finished; I pulled my clothes back where they belonged. Edward threw his blankets aside to find his suit jacket and helped me into it, then put a blanket over my shoulders.

A few more minutes of prep and we were stomping through the thick snow to a patch of bushes that were blowing wildly to the side with the wind. My hand was embedded in his and his arm was around my waist as we were buried up to our shins.

"Get on with it," he shouted in my ear, his forehead against my temple. I could still just barely hear him. "You've got your toiletries?"

I gave him the thumbs up and he pushed me behind the bushes, his hand still in mine. I tried to shake him off but he held on steadfast.

_Oh, God…No…_

I stared at him with dread in my chest and he gave me another shove with his shoulder.

He wasn't going to let me go.

With as much dignity as I possessed I turned away him from him so our arms were stretched to the limit and concealed myself as much as possible behind the bush as I pulled down my pants and did my business. The cold had nothing on the blazing fire in my face. Somewhere during, Edward squeezed my hand. He was probably laughing at me. I gave a squeeze of my own after all was said and done.

"I pray to God you didn't watch me," I said aloud as we climbed back into the car. I unbundled myself from the layers of scarves my head was swathed in as Edward dumped our snow filled shoes with the door open. He glanced at me briefly from over his shoulder and I could see mischief in his eyes. My back went rod straight. He was going to torment me, I was sure of it.

He didn't come back in immediately; in fact, he disappeared for a minute, in the drift of the snow. When he returned the bag that I escaped Volterra with was dangling from his arm and there was a plastic bag in his hand, full.

"When did you get those?"

"After I put Tanya in the house," he grunted, occupied with clearing the landing and getting all of the snow outside of the vehicle. He slammed the door shut after giving up.

"Oh," I muttered. I watched with my lip between my teeth as he sorted through the contents of the bag without pulling them out.

"As stupid and as reckless as you are for not behaving yourself and heeding when I specifically tell you to keep yourself out of harm's way, I commend you for your attention to detail; you packed exactly what would be needed for a few days on the lamb.

"What was your plan though, _Cherie_" he asked after a long pause, "assuming you had one. Did your little brain plot no courses? Were you just getting as much distance from Volterra as you could imagine in hopes that they would not find you? You realize you were only a few miles out of their reach, don't you? It's thinking like this that makes me want to tie you up, you know. Simply bind you at every limb and toss you in a body bag, and I could lug you around that way. Damn you, Bella," he shook his head. "Had I been a minute too late…Had I looked to the right of the road instead of the left, you would not be sitting in front of me. Tanya was so very close to ending your life, little girl. You realize that, don't you? Damn you." He dragged his hands over his face, scratched his jaw with both hands, then dragged them through his hair a few times. "Don't fucking move," he said kicking the bags aside. "I've never needed a cigarette as badly as I do now. Open this fucking door and I will spank you until your arse turns blue, and hogtie you in the trunk." And then he was gone.

Maybe two minutes passed before I could actually move, or even blink. I couldn't quite make out what had just happened. The conversation had taken such an immediate, dark turn that I hadn't had time to adjust from first mocking Edward to praising Edward to livid Edward. My head was spinning. He had such unpredictable, inconsistent moods that I was left hanging around the corner every time. Before the desertion it was nothing for me to keep up with him but now…well, I was a bit rusty.

I didn't quite know what I was to say to him, if I should have said anything at all or if I should say anything when he returned. My escape was obviously something that had been on his mind for a while—we'd yet to properly talk about it—and though I didn't know what triggered in his brain to make him lash out, I knew he needed to get that off his chest or he would _eventually _have taken it off on me, as he always had. What was a little tirade to sexual devastation, delicious as it would have been?

Though my mouth had nothing to offer, my body's reaction was clear as it was damning—go to him, comfort him. I had to dig my nails into the seat to keep myself down. For some reason, I actually believed he would have paddled and tied me up. He was pissed off. I'd seen him angry before, of course, but as history shows, it always ended sexually. Healthy was not a word I would have used for to describe the relationship; it was wise of him to have given us some distance. I was the idiot who craved touch.

I watched the door like a hawk, never moving from or leaving my perch. My nails were still firmly planted in the underside of the seat bench and I was still waiting for him. Five minutes had turned to ten, ten to twenty, twenty to an hour, and I was losing my mind. Paranoia and worry were my complete undoing but no matter what thought flitted across my mind I didn't touch that door. Was he warm enough? Was he freezing? Did he finally decide to leave me for dead? Had he decided that I wasn't even worth saving at this point? Where are you, Edward? Where are you?

I didn't leave my perch; I didn't touch that door.

* * *

**End Notes**: Angst makes the story go round? Who are we kidding; I can't stay away from that stuff.

Until next time, y'all!


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note: **Hi, y'all! Bit of a shorter one today. Just wanted to give you all something knowing I might be a bit busy soon.

I also added a cover photo to get with the times. I think it fits :)

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 25: Bond and Collapse

"…You have to—you _must_—listen to me from now on. Every little command is monumental, do you understand that?"

I startled slightly. Edward had come back. When? I lifted my head to glance down at myself, cocooned under multiple layers of over-blankets, my legs up on the bench. I raised my gaze back to Edward to see his passively expectant face. I stared for a little less than a minute, hoping he would fill me in on the parts I was asleep for and left wanting.

"What?" I mumbled.

"Is your attention span really so short?"

"Excuse me, I fell asleep waiting for a certain moody asshole to get over himself and return to his awaiting wife. Forgive me if I missed a few words."

His jaw clenched for a moment before he turned his head away and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I asked you to just listen to me from now on, Isabella," he said softly. "That's all I want from you."

I kicked my feet from under the edge of the covers and sat up, yawning. He must have still been thinking about Volterra. At this point there wasn't much else for me to say regarding that incident. I was sorry for endangering myself, yes, and I was sorry for being his wife's cause of death. Anything on my part other than those words was meaningless to him. Thank you's went by unnoticed to him, and I had nothing else to apologize for. If anything he should have been commending me for self-preservation.

"I'll do my best," I muttered. "I'm really hungry, by the way."

"Ah yes," he said, jumping out of his seat to face me and retrieving my inventory from under the bench, his mood and tone taking a serious 180 from just a few seconds prior. The worn and tired mask that was just settled on his face was drawn away for the more elusive, rarer boyish expression.

"I like that you packed the necessities," he said. "Plenty of water, juice even. Is this wine?" he snickered, lifting the expensive bottle out of the bag and holding it up to me. I nodded, my face probably still a bit blank from Edward's behavior.

"Cookies, pretzels, saltines, spoil-proof sandwiches, wine, wine, wine, brownies, wine." When he arrived at the end of the bag he hooked his hand over his mouth, his elbow supported by his knee as he looked at me with barely contained amusement.

"Did you steal all of these at once or did you go bit by bit to obtain so many—and the rich ones, too!"

"I did not steal them," I replied with my chin jutted out. "I worked the bar with Tyler for a bit and managed to score some liquor as payment. I didn't _steal _anything."

"You should have definitely just taken the money. Oh, how you hold your liquor so poorly," he shook his head.

"I only had a few glasses!"

"This is why it terrifies me to think of you in a state of a few bottles."

"It would take an always-lighted up alcoholic to say that."

Mockingly, he snaked his hand into his overcoat and pulled out a small silver flask, lifted the rim to his lips and gave a hearty swallow, stashing it away again with a grin.

"In what state are your kidneys right now, I have to ask?"

"Kidneys?" he snorted. "I sold those years ago."

"What is that? What you just drunk?"

"American scotch with lime and raspberries," he answered, "and a splash of lemonade to keep things interesting."

"Did you come up with that yourself? It sounds great." I could only be slightly embarrassed by the yearning in my voice. A fruity scotch chilled in ice? Fucking orgasmic.

"I did."

"Well don't beat around the bush—give us a sip!"

His eyebrow quirked up as he watched me extend my arm. "You must think me a fool if you thought I was going to give you even a drop of any of this wine, and you've completely lost your mind if you thought I was going to hand over my scotch. To the side," he commanded rapping against the side of my knee. I moved at once, my petulant lip sticking out to give him what's for as he navigated around me.

"I am a grown, 26 year old woman, with a college degree, my own house, a beautiful cat, and a driver's license. Who in the _hell _are you to deny me a drink?" My anger was boiling over unto new heights as he hauled each of my wine bottles into his arms and maneuvered to the door with every intention of putting it all in the trunk.

"Your caretaker," was his response.

I relented. I'd honestly completely forgotten that I packed those things. At least there would be no worry where food was concerned. I packed plenty, and then whatever else Edward had stashed away for us. Hopefully it would not only be fruit. And hopefully we would not be cut off from civilization for long.

"You just keep going back and forth out this door," I noted, folding a blanket over my arm to serve as a makeshift pillow. I stretched out on the seat bench. "You're letting all our good heat out."

"You keep giving me reasons to leave."

He unwrapped a sandwich from its cellophane and handed it to me, then several slices of orange. Now that I'd seen it, I kind of wanted the brownie instead, but I didn't bother saying so. I ate my small meal in comfortable silence, content with watching Edward lay across from me. I didn't taste the food; it was an unremarkable slice of bologna on wheat bread. The least I could have done for myself was add a spread but I hadn't cared at the time of preparation.

I washed away the dry taste with the orange.

The wine would have been better though.

I settled in for a nap. There wasn't much else to do. What I presumed to be a few hours later I woke to find Edward sitting in the same position he'd been in before, the look of relaxed contemplation still etched into his face.

"Something on your mind?" I asked.

He shook his head. He was lying.

"Then maybe you need to use the bathroom…?" I fished.

The crook of his brow let me know that was not the case.

"Well, then, what?" I sighed. "Edward, what's wrong?"

He shrugged.

I watched him a few minutes longer, then sat up with another sigh and leaned my head against the window. There were only flurries floating down now, and we were no longer a few meters away from low brush and bushes as we had been before. We'd relocated. My head whipped around and the expression I'd just thought as contemplative now seemed like feigned innocence.

"Edward," I started, my voice deceptively calm, "where are we and when did we move?"

"While you were sleeping. You shouldn't be surprised. I move the car a little further every time you fall asleep."

"Where?" I pressed.

"We're just on the border of Switzerland and Italy."

"Shit." The snow and wind made sense now. We were up in the Swiss mountains, heading in what I presumed to be northwest, back to France. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know when he was planning to tell me where we were headed. I wanted to know how much longer we would be nowhere.

"They found us then?"

"Yes."

That was all it took to bring the questions to a grinding halt. They were following us. We were in pursuit. Technicalities were irrelevant right now. When was he going to have let me know this, as well, if at all?

"They'd begun hunting you down the minute you were late for your work shit, Isabella. You're an idiot to have thought they would leave you alone simply because you left."

"I didn't think they would leave me alone."

"But you weren't expecting them to come after you with me, which is still equally, if not more, idiotic."

I twisted my fingers around one another, circling my left thumb with my right. "You're on their side," I tried to reason. "Why would they go after one of their own?"

"Because I'm going rogue _au moment_."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means I'm acting without orders. I'm doing what I want, and Caius doesn't like that."

I cursed. "I hate Caius."

"He's not my favorite person in the world, no."

"When did you come back for me?"

"Later than I'd intended. Aro was doing his utmost to keep me away from you."

"He knew."

"Of course he did. I told him as much."

"But he didn't stop you. You managed to get away. When did you realize I was gone?"

"When I saw more than a handful of personally trained assassins stalking the halls looking for you. Had you heard the swears I used in your name you would have paled like a ghost."

"Sorry," I muttered. "I think it's funny though."

"That I swore solemnly to tie you up to a tree upside down, naked, and beat the bare flesh from your bones?"

"No," I said, unable to keep the horror from my voice. "That our minds are so synched, that we can read each other's thoughts. We were ready to move at the same time." _Well, _I grumbled internally, _that you can read mine. _I was actually fairly glad now that Tanya got to me first.

"Can we now?"

I frowned at him. There was a slight touch of amusement dancing in his eyes now, replacing the ice cold glower that had just been there.

"Yes, we can."

"I think it's more of a one-sided talent than something we share."

"No," I shook my head fervently, obstinately clinging to my folly, ignoring how wrong I knew I was. "We both can. My ability may be a little more…substandard to yours but I have it."

"Really now?" He smirked at me, playing along with my childish game. "Okay then, what am I thinking?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, concentrating everything into my glare. "Of how happy you are that you saved me in time. Of the relief you felt seeing that I was just barely in one piece and how you would never lay your hands on me again."

He bowed his head to hide the smile that played on his full mouth and I couldn't help the softening of my face. He was so beautiful; he'd never know the effect he had on me.

"Not exactly," he said. "I still very much want to hang you on a tree."

"And beat me like a piñata," I finished for him. How dare he? "I bet you'd get hard from that, too. You twisted, sadist bastard."

"Probably. The idea that beating you would instill some docility in you, would remove that bull like stubbornness and ignorance from that pretty little head of yours and _force you _to listen when I tell you to do something brings on the largest, hardest erection, I swear to you."

"Fuck you," I hissed.

"You think me a liar?" He got out of his seat, stood before me, leaning forward so his head ducked from hitting the roof of the car, and unzipped the fly of his pants so they dropped to his knees.

True to motherfucking form, his erection was absolutely straining against his dark gray boxers, saluting me. It could have very well been my imagination but there was a small speck of fabric that was darker than the rest.

"You're fucking sick."

"And you're pigheaded."

"Don't touch me," I growled as he reached for me.

"Did you just growl at me?"

"I said back off! I don't want you touching me."

"Yes," he said, "you do. I can read your mind, remember?"

"You're misguided. Mistaking me for some who gets off on the idea of being tied to forestry and abused to death."

"If you say so."

"You'll never touch me again if I have anything to say about it."

"As if you could handle the torture."

"Can you get that thing out of my face now?"

"That's the last thing you want right now, admit it."

"Fuck. You."

"I can see the struggle in your eyes, Isabella. Can see the way you're rubbing your thighs together to alleviate that delicious ache I'm giving you."

"So what?" I snapped.

"So I'll offer a trade. I'll make you come - without touching you, if that's what you want - in exchange for a little information. I'm a bit frustrated myself so I'll even allow you to watch me come with you."

That got my attention. Not the last bit! But the other thing, the barter. What did I know that he didn't? "What do you want to know?" I heard myself asking.

"I need you to tell me everything Tanya disclosed to you before I killed her," he said, suddenly very no-nonsense. "She tends to run her mouth when she's upset and I'm used to cleaning up her messes."

"That's funny. She said she was used to doing that for _you_."

"I don't make mistakes."

"Oh, don't I know it."

"Isabella."

"Okay. Actually, I don't remember what she was talking about. I went into shock, remember?"

"You're not even trying."

"I am trying!"

"Try harder."

"She was mostly talking about you," I grumbled.

"And?"

"And she told me that it was her who killed Jessica in Marais."

"I figured as much. Anything else?"

"She mentioned Caius."

"Hm," he grimaced. "She was fucking him, you know. That's why I haven't touched her in years. I shudder to even think of having been where that man has."

"You didn't care? That she was sleeping with your boss?" There was a parade going on in my heart now, knowing that when I'd seen Tanya in Volterra that she wasn't with him. But why had she smelled of him? Probably just to rub it in my face, the bitch. I hoped she was roasting on a stick in hell.

"Why should I?"

"Because she is-_was_ your wife."

"Only on paper," he said again.

"Would you care if _I_ fucked him?"

There was only a second's hesitation. "You're not his type."

I rolled my eyes. "She didn't really say anything more. Except that she didn't like me. And she mentioned your 'identities.' That's all though. I know one-or two of them now. How many are there?"

"There are a few."

"Who do you pretend to be?"

"I can be whoever I want. Gay, straight, American, Russian, Dominican if I'm careful enough. It doesn't take much."

"That's why you're fluent in so many languages."

"And it's why I thought you weren't who you said you were."

"We all make mistakes," I shrugged, and I couldn't be sure but I thought I heard him breathe, 'I don't make mistakes.' "Gay?" I asked.

"Yes."

"As in having sex with men?"

"If necessary, yes."

"Incredible," I scoffed.

"Sex is a very powerful weapon. Or sexual persuasion, rather. It goes a very long way, and I'm as skilled in that language as any other."

"Hmph. Well that's all I know."

"Alright," he said, stroking his chin for a moment, distracted. "Alright, I can live with that. Now take your clothes off."

I stared at him, a bit stricken. "Excuse me?"

"I told you I would make you come after you told me what I wanted to know, which you did, now take your clothing off."

"I said I don't want you to touch me," I glowered, my anger returning with a vengeance.

"You do."

"Damned if you will though, you rat bastard."

"Fine. Fine. I'll leave you alone. But I want one kiss in exchange."

"Why?" I asked, suspicious.

"Because our previous deal fell through although you answered my questions knowing the terms, so now I want something for myself. I'll leave you alone after. Look at me."

I turned my head a little more than a fraction in his direction, and he took a firm grip of my chin between his fingers and leaned over me so our faces were only a hairsbreadth from one another's. He glared at me for so long that I'd gone lightheaded from the lack of oxygen; I could only pull in shallow breaths and I was getting those far and few in between. Finally, _finally_, he moved, forward, his teeth catching around my lower lip, giving an erotic, forceful tug, and then I was kissing him.

I didn't know who was leading anything. I didn't care. His mouth was a dancing feather over mine, only allowing me soft, brief caresses before his tongue would reach out fleetingly and retreat, over and over and over, all over, until I was vibrating with need. My patience ran thin as I crashed my lips to his, my hands flying into his hair, stilling him, forcing him to me as I had my way with him. I was too absorbed in the kiss to notice him reach up, but the pain was sudden, swift and arresting, so sharp and quick that I didn't even have the chance to make a noise before it was gone.

His lips left mine, he whispered, "No touching," and he dropped his hold on my wrists after kissing both palms, then he brought himself back to standing.

I struggled to maintain my grip on my fury, grasping at it like a life preserver as I was cast insignificantly into the rising sea of lust that positively gushed within me then, as tiny, fragmented visions of Edward's tongue, mouth, and skin against mine at Volterra flashed and bombarded me wave after powerful wave. The force of it all was so strong, so blinding that it made me convulse. The memory alone was powerful enough to make me gasp as a tiny spasm rocked through me, as the recollection of Edward's skilled fingers twisting, curling, and massaging my inner walls ghosted over me, as if he were between my thighs at this very moment.

My chest rose and fell frantically, my breaths escaping me in pants as I stared up through half-mast lids into Edward's scorching gaze, my balled hands shaking from how tightly I curled my fingers into my palms. My entire body pulsed and throbbed with the energy crackling between us, and there was a light sheen of sweat beading across the line of both mine and Edward's brow, from the sudden sweltering heat that fanned and coursed through the interior of the vehicle we were trapped in.

His hands reached out so he was cradling either side of my jaw, his touch feather light, and then he was dragging me up to him, pulling my body into his, somehow still towering over me. He moved his face toward mine very slowly then brushed his lips against the shell of my ear, nudging my hair aside with the tip of his nose. He wasn't speaking—not a sound was in the air save for my panting; but his mouth was moving, he was breathing God knows what and I'd never wanted to hear his voice as badly as I did now.

Hearing him would, without doubt, burst the all-encompassing bubble we were wrapped in, break the spell I was under, he knew that. He was avoiding it, punishing me, the cruel man. My brain was a mess of fuzz and static, overloaded with the feel of him against me; with the way his cock was pressed against my belly; with how I could feel his lips whisper against me but was too muddled to make out the words. Nothing but touch and sensation. Skin on skin. Hard against soft.

I thought I was done; I thought I would absolutely combust and disintegrate into a thousand indiscernible little pieces in his hands. I was wound too tightly, the coil deep within me was curled too tightly, ready to pop and taking no prisoners.

And then I felt the slightest rock of his hips against mine, felt the way his teeth clamped down on my earlobe, and heard the soft groan of my name tumble from his lips as he stilled against me, and I exploded.

I jerked, then tensed as the junction between my legs clenched over and over, spiraling me down into oblivion, my knees trembling so hard I would have fallen had Edward's arm not been there to hold me up.

"That's right, Bella," he crooned in my ear. "That's perfect. You're perfect. Beautiful." He kissed the side of my neck. "That's twice now, I've made you come. I don't think I'll be as restrained on the third. Next time it will be my cock," he breathed against my ear. "Inside you, filling you, coming inside you. So hard you can't think, all you can do is feel. It's what you want, what you need. But not this time. This time is just for you."

He wrapped his arms around me, turning my face into his chest so I was pressed against him, and I let him as the tears streamed silently down my cheeks. I hated him; I hated myself, but I hated him so much more. How much had this man taken from me? How much more would he take?

I knew the answer before I'd even asked the question: everything.

My friends, my family, my career, my independence, my strength, my patience, my dignity. The list went on and on and on, and it took everything in my being not to pull away and slap my hand across his beautiful, austere face. I wouldn't though; then there would be no chance in hell that I wouldn't be _punished_, like a child caught doing wrong. Who was I now? Isabella Swan was a ghost, dead and gone, and she'd left near no trace that she'd ever existed in the first place. She would have never stood for the emotional abuse that this man enforced upon me, wouldn't have taken an ounce of his shit. Just minutes prior he was threatening to hang me upside from a tree and here I was now, in his arms, recovering from an orgasm with him _when he didn't even touch me_, not really.

I cried then. I felt nothing less than disgust. Disgusted at myself, at him, at the world, at this fucked up situation, everything. I couldn't handle the feel of him against me right now—I pushed away from him, and a whole other torrent of revulsion poured down on me in the fact that I didn't want to. I shoved his chest, hard, and though he didn't even budge I threw myself back in my seat, piling the blankets on top of me, shutting myself in from the outside world, from his world, where I was only allowed to coexist in passivity.

I didn't care what he thought of me now; I didn't care what I thought of me, either. I just sat up, curled into a tight ball, and mourned Isabella Swan.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Oh, Bella..

Until next time, y'all!


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: **Hey, y'all! Can't thank you guys enough for all the love. Does shit to me, ya know?

Not so long one today but, you know what, I am literally doing everything in my power to stretch these characters to the limit. I'll admit it. I had the ultimate tear jerker near the end of the chapter, too. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 26: Acknowledgement

Waking up I'd known we moved again, though I didn't need to ask Edward to confirm this. There was sunlight, a small beam of sunlight shining down on the little ice covered plane we were parked in, and despite the cold there was wild life scurrying around in the short bushes. I didn't take my head out from under the cover, and I kept my face turned toward the window to avoid seeing him.

If he noticed my aversion, if he even knew I was awake, he showed no signs.

I assured him I hadn't bitten my tongue through, though, and offed myself; I curled my legs up to my chest again, letting him know I was alive, and rested my chin on my knees, staring into the black dark of the blanket.

I very much wished to see Rosalie and Alice at this moment. I wanted Rose to stroke my hair and I wanted to hear Alice's pitchy voice reassuring me that I would be okay. Lord knew I wanted to see Esme, but there was no way I would have been able to hold myself together in her motherly presence.

According to Esme, they would have been long executed by now, their dead bodies melding with the earth six feet underground. I wanted to know if they managed to escape as well at this point, and if they did, were Aro and his goons chasing them to the ends of the earth as well? Emmett and Jasper were supposedly in on helping them. As much as I had grown to love them both, would they lie? Betray Esme and the girls?

I turned my face and rested my cheek on my knee.

No. If the boys said they were going to save the girls then I believed them, I had every reason to. I had witnessed firsthand how they looked at each other, how they interacted with one another as if they'd been lovers for years and not friends for a few weeks. There was something soul-binding between the four of them—Emmett with Rosalie, Jasper with Alice. I envied them their easy romance, unconventional as it was. They hadn't met under normal circumstances, no, but there was no lack of trust between any of them in the beginning. Em and Jazz were doing their friend a favor; saving his captive's loved ones from certain death. Protecting them from the very get-go, regardless of not knowing them, and they went along easily, blissfully unaware.

They were in no way kidnapped.

They were in no way forced to live weeks curled into a little ball in a hole in the wall.

They were never sexually manipulated and treated like a child.

They never had to grow to despise or even fall in love with Edward Anthony Masen.

I couldn't stop the streaming tears at this point, so I simply turned my face back into my knees and let my silent cries exhaust me into sleep.

….

..

..

I was rocking. So gently, wrapped in such loving arms, being rocked in the velvety darkness. Here, in this magical place, there was no evil, no fear; just love and peace and warmth, and I wanted to stay in this cocoon forever.

The dreams were over now, a long series of dreams, all interconnected and riddled with underlying messages that I was too far gone to pick apart. Aro was there and I ran from him, but in every direction but straight stood those long, black shadows. My family stood on the fringe of the danger, beckoning me to them, and just as I reached out to grab hold of them a larger, more encompassing black mass stood before me, held me from them, smiled a beautiful, eerily crooked smile…I ran some more, ran as far away from the mass as my legs could carry me, and I cried, cried as I never had in real life, not even when I'd lost James.

But I had cried, hadn't I, recently? My body's final, ultimate betrayal: the presentation of weakness.

I felt a hand on the side of my face, brushing away my tears, and I turned into that hand, pressed my lips against it, and the dream calmed at once, the black that surrounded me melting away to soft and gentle nothingness.

And now I was at peace, wrapped in warm, strong arms, safer than I'd ever been in my entire life. Home, when I'd always felt like a stranger wherever I was. I could rest, and listen to the quiet beat of his heart, feel his breath in my hair, stirring it slightly, feel the howl of wind beat against the car…

My eyes flew open, my body suddenly rigid, and for a moment his arms tightened around me before releasing me.

I couldn't go far—just pressing myself against the back of the passenger seat, and I was glad for the murky darkness in our vehicle. I flickered my gaze to the windows then back to the glowing green eyes of Edward. He was watching me quietly, his head leaned back on his seat, eyes hooded but unerringly trained on me.

"Did the car run out of gas?" My voice sounded groggy even in my ears. "Are we stuck here now?"

"No. There's a full tank."

"Then why aren't we moving?" I demanded.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Because I was resting, as were you. It's dangerous to drive in weather like this when you're not at your best. We would have been long gone from here hours ago; I've just been waiting for you to wake up as the road gets a bit bumpy from here."

"Thoughtful of you," I grumbled, rubbing my palm across my neck, the side of my face. The cuts were long healed now, but they still hurt from time to time.

"You seemed to have needed the rest."

"I don't get as much sleep as I like anymore, no."

"No, you don't."

I scowled in the darkness at his tone.

"Are you ready to go?"

I was tempted to say no, but the thought of Caius' men catching up with us made me shudder. I would have been up and crawling away from Edward already had I not lodged myself into the most impossible position between the passenger seat and bench, my legs far too swathed in the blankets to be of any assistance from here. "What if I said I wasn't?" I asked hypothetically.

"I would do my best to persuade you otherwise," he said in such a neutral tone it was worse than a leer. "Don't wiggle around like that; you'll only get yourself further stuck. Be still."

I didn't want him moving any closer, not if I could help it. "No."

"I can't help you out until you do."

"I can manage…" I was doggedly trying to kick my foot out of the blanket, to at least find a small opening in the layers but I was failing hard. My hands were doing everything they could to unwrap me, too.

"Stop fighting me," he said, unwrapping the blanket from around me with insulting ease.

"It'll be a cold day in hell," I muttered.

"You weren't fighting me last night."

Silence filled the darkened belly of the car as the wind steadily blew against it and all movement ceased.

"Everyone makes mistakes," I whispered finally, just barely managing to keep my voice from shaking and just succeeding.

"Yes," he murmured, "I suppose they do."

And with that he took hold of my arms and slowly dragged me up and towards him until my legs straightened from their unnatural position, the blankets falling away and hitting the floor mutedly.

His chest was deep and warm and I didn't like how easily I fit there. I mumbled my thanks and scrambled away. The silence once again yawned and stretched around us, and my face was growing exponentially hotter as I kept my eyes attached to the floor, as I felt his gaze burn into the crown of my head.

"We should be moving now," I whispered into the dark.

"No. Lie down on the bench."

"Why?"

"I need to change your bandages."

I closed my eyes, pursed my lips. I was fighting for strength now, the strength to be able to withstand his touch that would soon be everywhere. I was still clinging desperately to the last shreds of hatred that I had for this man but with every second that I was near him, for every remembrance of his skin on mine, of his arms around me, of how the small amount of good stood up against the lengthy bad, all of my animosity began to dissipate.

No, this wasn't right. In no way was this situation anything but fucked up and I would wish it upon no one but…who else did I have now? There was no way in hell I could stand up to a platoon of assassins. Who else could I turn to without truly destroying their lives, without dragging them down with me? This man had, on more than one occasion, saved my life. He was _still _saving my life. Granted, he was the one who basically threw me into the line of fire but he always brought me back out of it as well. He's had a life before me, but seemingly in the drop of a hat he gave it all up, mostly, to watch over me.

I scooted my butt forward and lay flat on the bench, scooping my hair up off of my neck so it fell over my shoulders, staring up at the ceiling.

Edward moved about the car, picking up what he needed before settling beside me and moving my clothes so he could reach my cuts and scars.

"Why did you let me live?" I asked. I didn't clarify; I didn't need to.

"I had questions about you," he said, "for you."

"And after those questions were answered?"

"I always have questions about you, even now." His voice was soft as he wiped a pad of alcohol across my abdomen, over my arms.

"But not questions like when we'd first met," I said. "Not even close."

"No, I suppose not."

"About those questions…"

He sighed. "You know the answers to them by this point."

"I want to hear them from your mouth."

He sighed again, and for a short moment his hand froze where it was. His eyes met mine and I was lost for a time. I turned to the window quickly with a heavy amount of effort, avoided further distraction. He was so good at that, at scattering my thoughts. I couldn't let him have that over me anymore.

"Explain," I prompted, cold and to the point.

"I saw that Carlisle liked to run his mouth as well," he started with an exhale. "But I don't completely blame him for giving away so much. You're very persistent."

I gave one stiff nod and he continued.

"Shall we start from the beginning, love?"

"I would prefer it."

"I will only answer things that remotely concern you," he warned, his gaze serious. "If it really is none of your business I won't say a word about it. As deep as you are in it already, I'd hate to think you wanted to bury yourself further."

"I can live with that…but you better not lie to me."

"I _better _not?"

"No, I don't suggest it."

"And if I did? Is there something particular I should be watching out for?"

"Nothing I can think of right now," I glowered. "But if I were you, I just wouldn't. My patience is at its absolute thinnest with you, Edward."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Isabella."

So we were back to Isabella now? I sniffed, returning my gaze to the ceiling as he rubbed the cold, scentless gunk into my skin. If nothing else was true, then how magical this thick green stuff healed was. An incredible first aid that mended my ugly wounds and glued it right back to how it belonged, so only inch long scars remained now.

"You gotta give me some answers," I said, turning to him, and I was instantly transported back Forks Crystal Cavern, to the Stone Harem, the night that Edward first allowed me to sleep in his bed with him, the night that he opened up to me. Would I be able to have that again with him? That mindless simplicity in our relationship where we were shielded from the outside world, where there was no one but us and each other, getting a feel for one another?

I swiped my tongue over my lips in withheld anticipation, wondering if he would use the exact line from our past as I had. He wanted to, I could see that, but he refrained.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything," I breathed.

He chuckled into his wrist.

"You need to be a bit more specific than that."

"I guess I'll start from square one. What did you mean when you asked me my title back then, Edward? What were you asking me of? No bullshit, I want the truth." That question had been the source of so much tension between us in the beginning, the stepping stone to miscommunication, sexual deviation, and aversion. I needed to know. It was the first thing I could think of.

He didn't answer immediately. He still had his head bent over his task, cleaning me up, wrapping me in gauze. When this was done he rolled my clothes back down and spread a blanket over me before leaning into the front of the car, turning the key in the ignition and letting the heat span out around the vehicle. He settled in on the bench across from mine and cradled his head with his palm.

"Carlisle told you about the Volturi?"

"Yes. They're a trade conglomerate you work for."

"And do you know what we trade?"

"Lots of things," I muttered. "I have questions about that, too though."

"One at a time, please. You know that Volterra has a lot of competition?"

"I do."

"And that Jacob Black is an enemy to us?"

"Yes."

"I reported you in after I found you flying through my base," he started. "As it was my job, I told Aro that I'd captured a potential threat…"

"What made me a threat?" I interrupted. "I'm sure you have cameras running all throughout FCC so you must have seen me stumbling my way through there for over two hours."

His face hardened. "You not only weaseled a permit into your hand for a restricted area but you also _snuck away _from the group you worked with to go snooping around. I wouldn't be alive if I didn't take that as a sign of attack, of infiltration. And had you of said that you knew there were cameras in the caves back then I wouldn't have let you live; I would have killed you on the spot. Know that, please."

Ice dripped down my spine at his tone but I hid it well.

"Why is that?"

"Because those cameras were absolutely hidden to the naked eye. It would take someone trained to have found them, especially since they were hidden by yours truly."

"A little full of ourselves today, aren't we?"

"You could have been any number of things," he continued, ignoring me. "My orders were to eliminate you that very night, when you had your little panic attack on my floor."

_Oh._

"So why didn't you?"

"I had questions for you," he said again, vague. He lifted my arm and rolled me onto my side so I faced the seat now. With the tip of my finger I traced the clean leather's creases.

"Was title referring to, like, my _spy _job?"

He whistled a chuckle through his nostrils.

"Yes, it referred to your spy job."

"You made me sound so exciting from the very beginning," I muttered with a smirk, looking at him from over my shoulder.

"Oh, you were plenty exciting all on your very own."

He lifted my arm again, preparing to roll me once more, but there was something hesitant about his movements now. I was on my butt, only partially facing him as he sat behind me. I glanced back and was a little stunned to see how _inhuman _he'd once again become. I'd dealt with this expression so much my automatic response was to turn away but his hand flashed out to catch my jaw.

"What?" I whispered raggedly.

"I…was very wrong about you, Isabella Swan…and I'm sorry—deeply regretful, more so—that I have had you dragged into this. You had and still have no business in any of this mess and you're sadly right in the middle of it. By now you probably hate me to the depths of your very being and I don't blame you that, but that's irrelevant right now.

"I don't price my life very high at the moment but I promise you that I will have you home, in your warm little bed snuggled up with your cat very soon. Do you trust me with that at least, Bella? Do you trust me enough to get you home, safely?"

_Oh, God…_I was going to cry.

I was going to absolutely breakdown.

I dug my teeth into my lower lip and pulled until there were imprints. I pulled in the deepest breath until my lungs were filled to capacity, then screwed my eyes shut as I counted to ten out of order. _Where _did this come from? _Why _now?

Warm tracks of tears fell down my cheeks now and I groaned to myself.

Just as I had managed to climb back onto shaky knees he managed to knock me right back down again. Just when I imagine I can hold a bedraggled hand over the burning flames that lay between us he turns up the heat.

Just when I acknowledge that I've fallen he offers to help me back up.

"This sounds an awful lot like a goodbye," I accused in a falsely strong voice.

He shrugged.

"We're getting there," he replied quietly. His thumb rolled over the moisture on my face and I turned into his palm, pressing my lips into it as I had in my dream, but that black mass in my heart continued to grow. I couldn't stop it.

"Don't apologize," I murmured.

His eyebrows knit together in question.

"Don't apologize for…this. I…I don't regret it." I swallowed. "And neither should you. And I don't hate you."

"Bull—"

"When you're like this," I finished. "It's when you're a perverse, rough-handsy dick that I want to toss you over a bridge. This," I sighed tentatively leaning my head on his chest, "is fine. This is _safe _to me."

I closed my eyes as he gently pulled me into his lap and let his forehead hit my temple, his warm breath stirring the hair on my shoulder. I stroked my hand over his arm slowly, and he mirrored the action across my back.

The wind swirled and beat against the exterior of the car in a soft, lulling fashion, and I had the overwhelming, most ridiculous urge to tell him.

Because I was an idiot.

"All out of questions, then?" he asked. His voice was soft, fading in with the rest of the world as I felt a pinch in my elbow. I flinched only slightly, and reached up to curl my arms around Edward's neck.

"S'not fair when you put me to sleep."

He chuckled.

"Your body needs rest, Isabella."

"Mmm."

"Would you like to lie down?"

"Mmm-mm."

"I have something to do, Bella. I have to move you."

I scrunched my eyes up and sighed. "You're going to leave me again."

"I'm also going to come back for you again. Granted you don't go running around all of Paris like last time."

I was so groggy, so very tired that I couldn't even fight him this time. I loosened my grip on him and he propped me up on the seat, cradling me in blankets as if I was an infant.

He pressed his lips to my forehead, his left hand already poised for the door when I shot my arm out to catch him. I let my fingers trail down his forearm, over his wrist, into his palm, then curled my hand around his pinky. He stared down at our conjoined hands for a second before snickering and turning his head away.

"Don't laugh," I grumbled. "Promise you'll come back."

"Yes, I verily promise you."

"Okay," I murmured, and as he brought my fingers to his lips and let them fall against my stomach I allowed myself to doze.

"I trust you," I uttered, then fell.


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note: **Hey, y'all! I fell off of my game with responding to everyone! Gah! I know! I'll get right to it in a bit :) Enjoy though!

* * *

Chapter 27: Where to Begin?

"So, you basically lied to your boss then?"

"That's right."

"And you didn't get fired for something like that?"

"There's only one way to be truly taken out of the system, love."

"What makes you so immune? I'm sure if anyone else lied to their bloodthirsty boss they'd have been tossed, right?"

"I actually can't say." His eyes tightened slightly around the edges, along with his fingers' grip on the steering wheel. He was deathly concentrated on the road right now and yet I felt all of his focus on me. It almost felt…nice…or romantic even.

"Might it be because you're second in command?" I ventured.

"That's always a possibility, but not one I would immediately think of, no. For every one of you, there are fifty others willing to take your place—much more willing, much more mindless. I'm nothing special to Aro."

"I don't think so."

"Oh?" He glanced at me from the corner of his eye again.

"Well you _did _lie to him—twice wasn't it?"

"Three times," he corrected.

"What was the third?"

"I told him I killed you," he began listing, "I then informed him that _Jacob _had instead killed you, and then I told him that Jacob was dead."

"Oh," I exhaled. "Lies 1 and 2 definitely don't match up," I stated obviously.

"No, they don't," he snorted. "And you very much told on me in your first meeting with him. I somehow knew you would but I didn't think you'd be so upfront about me shooting Black."

"Alright, then. So, you know, with all these lies you told, you're obviously not as dispensable as you think you are, otherwise you'd be long gone by now."

"You don't think he hasn't tried to terminate me yet?"

I balked.

"Has he?"

"Well there was that first few hours while we played 'House' in your kitchen after leaving the caves. Then the next morning when I returned to see you were having an attack—"

"Twice in less than 24 hours?" I gasped. "Holy—"

"Ah, I'm not done yet. Then there was that night as well. Brave man stood right outside your window."

"Oh, God."

"He reverted to more extreme measures when he saw the job wasn't getting done. They tried to ambush us. Do you remember when we left your house? All of the running around I had you do?"

"_Listen, Isabella, because this is important. I am going to honk the horn twice, the first when I park and the following 40 seconds after. When I beep the horn, you are to take that shotgun in the living room and break all of the lights in this house, do you understand? You have ten seconds to get to every bulb. When I signal you the second time, throw open all of the doors, all of them. Bathroom, bedroom, guest room, all of them, including the back door. The second the last door swings open on its hinges I want you to run as fast as you can to get to the Jeep and we will head straight to the airport. No mistakes, love; this is of the utmost importance."_

"I…do. What was all that for? I hadn't been thinking much of it at the time. Ya' know, coked up on antidepressants and all."

"Don't you ever do that again," he ordered, and I felt the full power of his gaze on me. The road was forgotten as he stared me down for what seemed like the longest moment before he looked away again. I swallowed thickly as I looked away myself, slightly dazed. Shocked, even.

I kept to my lap and muttered a, "Sorry."

"You could have killed yourself."

"That wasn't the intention."

"What _was _the intention?"

"Hell if I know now."

He rolled his eyes, and that glowing, burning look that was there seemed to dissipate. I almost wanted to say something else stupid, just to have another peek at it, but I refrained.

"So what was all that for?"

"If you hadn't noticed, Forks is a very, very sleepy town. Not much excitement or _action _brewing in those trees. So for the Chief of Police's daughter, her two friends and boss, and about a handful of Fork's population to be missing, I had to organize a few things."

My eyebrows fell together then. "What kind of things?"

"For the first week of your absence it wasn't a big deal. People knew you loved working, that you dedicated all your time to it, so they didn't get suspicious. I also had Angela there as a good diffuser, especially for your father. He was the hardest to handle in this situation. Not too bad though, I'll say.

"The second week however, new faces were constantly popping up in town, and that is a problem. Small towns like yours don't pick up a massive amount of traffic in the first months of the year. Aro was _combing _for you. Leaving no rock—"I snorted here, "—unturned. And what's so funny?"

"Well we _were _inside of a giant rock for weeks. He _knew _you were there. Why wouldn't he check?"

"Because I told him not to," he said, "Because had anyone else entered my base without a warning before I would have killed them."

"See!" I exclaimed. "You've even got orders for your boss!"

"That doesn't mean anything," he said with his lip slightly curled. "The fact is, I'm known to be a bit more…brutal…in my methods. Meaning while I'm…how the devil do you Americans put it…_in the zone_, I'm not coming out for a long time."

"That's not cryptic at all."

"I'm a monster in my element, Bella," he sighed. "When I'm working, not babysitting full grown women, I am the closest thing to hell that anyone on earth can get to. Had I been in the middle of a job when I caught you…I scarcely want to even think about it. Just know, if you thought Tanya was cruel to you, you'd see her as a saint with me.

"As I was saying, I had to stage up your home as if it had been a simple burglary. With so many new, unaccounted for faces it wasn't very hard. It was believable, and quite convenient that you were off in South America at the time."

"At what point did you decide to save Alice, Rosalie and Esme?"

"When you decided to answer that damned phone. I swear, I just about throttled you right there."

"I actually don't know made me answer it," I said sheepishly. "Maybe it was just to hear someone else's voice."

"You made an otherwise smooth operation into a mildly bumpy road."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"When you're the one who has to retrace steps, no."

"So you just called Emmett and Jasper and told them to pick the girls up? Was it really that simple?"

"Minor things like getting from one continent to another are simple, yes. More major things like trying to keep them alive from a swarm of trained hit men all for your sake, no."

"Why do you always end in your sentences in yes or no? Is that something you picked up from Tanya?"

"My dead wife? Yes."

"That's not funny."

"You're smiling."

I was smiling.

"I hate Aro," I said after a quiet minute. "Did you know about what he was going to do to me, to the girls, too?"

"Yes."

This was the moment of truth. "And is that why you left me?" I asked. "Did your leaving have…anything…to do with coming back with a rescue plan?"

His eyes slid over to mine as I held my breath in my lungs, and when he gave a short, slow nod I exhaled heavily and let the back of my head hit the headrest. He could very well have been lying, as he was known to do, but I desperately wanted to believe that he never planned to leave me for dead. Even while I was cursing him to the very bowels of hell those few days ago, what felt like years ago, I subconsciously clung to the hope that he would come back for me.

And he had.

"You look tired," he observed.

"I am. What's your relationship with Jacob Black?"

"I dislike him, and I hate his guts."

"How long have you known him? Where do you know him from?"

"It's all business, lovely. I don't call him up on weekends to go out for pints with him."

"I don't imagine you would being that you shot him and all. You wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill you. What's up with that?"

"I don't make mistakes, Bella. If I wanted to kill Jacob Black that day I would have. That was not my intention."

"What was your intention then?"

"To wound him bad enough that I wouldn't have to deal with him again for a while, and that's just what I did. He'll be walking with a limp for the rest of his life and every time his foot hits the pavement from now on he'll think of me."

"Wouldn't that make him want to come for you more?"

"This business is all about deadly efficiency, love. You don't get second chances, and those who do count themselves extremely lucky and one of a kind. The fact that you lost on the field against your opponent means that you are weak. You have no business coming back to finish what you started, or any right to continue in your line of work at all.

"Jacob lives, breathes and shits this job. He'll come back—of course he will—but it won't be any time soon, and he won't be as clumsy as he was last time."

I found myself watching Edward again, studying him in the dim, darkening light as the sun began to set just off to his side behind the tips of the dusky mountain terrain. This wasn't cockiness or arrogance as I was used to hearing from him now as he spoke of Jacob—it was sureness. Although the words didn't come from his mouth, Edward was aware that if and when Jacob did return he would be stronger than before, prepared.

My safety was also implied in his final words: He would come back for me as well.

I didn't really have the heart to think about something like that right now, of what I would do once I was once again out of Edward's protective hold and on my own in Forks, of how Jacob would refuse to leave me alone. What then? Will this have all been for naught?

"No, he has no intentions of simply letting you live your life," Edward said softly, reading my mind again. "That's why I have to end his before he comes for you.

"It goes against the grain of how I work," he continued, "but it's _imperative _that you inform me of the relationship _you _have with him. You've been giving me the run around on this one, and while I've had dozens of opportunities to end his life since I shot him, I've had to abstain because I'm missing important information. Talk to me, stubborn girl, and tell me how and what you know about Jacob Black."

I sighed.

"My dad and Jacob's dad were really good friends at one point," I started, "and the two of them loved to get Jacob and I together for play dates while they hung out. Our relationship began as soon as I stepped foot into Forks territory, I guess. It was some argument over something stupid that made them less civil toward each other—fishing or baseball or something. After they stopped seeing so much of each other I didn't get to see Jacob as much as I had anymore. This was when I was around 13; he was 12. I still saw him as much as I could off of La Push, close to everyday during my summer stays. Charlie would drop me off close to the beach and leave before Jake and his dad showed up.

"Jake was a weird kind of kid. He didn't really hang out with anyone other than me, and had it not been for our fathers being friends before he probably wouldn't have paid me any mind either. He liked to go to the far end of the beach near the woods, and he would keep us as secluded and away from other people as much as possible. Of course I found it strange, but he liked to tell me how I was the only one that understood him, how one day he would take me away from the world and protect me from everything, just like he did then even if only for a few hours."

My skin warmed over as I pursed my lips at my lap. This was something that I had never revisited, not even on my own, and now, sitting here with Edward, I found my history to be a little…silly. "It was all very fanciful and romanticized for me back then. I hadn't really given much thought to _what _he was saying; just that I was a preteen and I liked the attention he gave me."

"Would you have considered him your boyfriend?" Edward's gentle voice asked.

My head snapped up. "No. No. I-I mean, maybe he did, but I didn't. He was a lot more like a misguided little brother than anything else."

"Did he ever kiss you?"

"He tried, more than once."

"Puppy couldn't take a hint?"

"He was very…persistent. He got more aggressive a few years after the first failed attempt, but he had hit puberty so…"

_Look at his hands, _my subconscious called.

I did, and I was sure if his grip was any tighter he would crush right through the material of the steering wheel. I trailed my glance up his arms and to his face. Lord, the man was rigid. He was striving for a more composed, relaxed look, forcing it, but there was entirely too much tension in his posture, around his eyes, to fool anyone.

I returned to my lap with a small smile.

"So because he was going through puberty, you forgave the fact that he was forcing himself on you?" Distaste colored his tone, and it made me lift my nose a little, defensively.

"I thought that was just his way of saying he cared about me, Edward. He was kind of a sociopath so it's not like he was going to express himself verbally, and I'm not defending him either; I'm defending myself."

"_Merde_," he exhaled heavily. He slid his eyes over to mine, and his face was twisted somewhat into a sneer. "So, you have a history of misplacing your trust then? Good to know."

_What…a dick. _

"Did you want me to just drop him as a friend because of something like that?" I demanded. I glared up at him through my eyelashes, not wanting to fully turn toward him. There was still the tiniest hint of satisfaction in my expression, I was sure, and I wasn't exactly privy to have him picking up on it. "Normal teenagers have urges and hormones, Edward. If I squashed every male friend that showed any interest in me I would be deemed Miss Frozen Britches."

He ignored me. "How aggressive was he?"

"None of your damn—"

His scowl was murderous, and I broke off in a strangled gasp as my heart faltered in its rhythm.

But I did not back down.

Our eyes were locked for what seemed like forever, and in the back of my mind I wondered how he was driving without watching the road, but then he finally looked away.

Triumph.

"Did he do anything against your will?" he probed, frustration still in his tone.

"Nothing worse than what you've done to me," I muttered, and he frowned.

"I pray not, for his sakes."

Was it just me, or was Edward purposely letting me hear things that made my heart sing? He wasn't at all that clumsy, and had he been I knew there was no way he was would slip up this much.

"Please, continue."

I rolled my eyes.

"So I moved to Forks my Freshman year of highschool," I went on, "to give my mom and her new husband some time to rove the earth without dragging me with them, and the times Jake and I hung out were no longer confined to summers alone. By sophomore year I had a learner's permit, and junior year I was driving around in a deathtrap-truck, making an effort to visit La Push near everyday."

"You were an enabler," Edward stated in a very pissed off, matter-of-factly tone. "Regardless of him pushing himself on you, you continued to see him 'near everyday.' How do you think a teenage boy views that, Bella? In his mind, you were simply playing hard to get, which means with a little more effort you'd crack."

"You better not be calling me easy, Edward. I swear to God..."

"Those words never left my mouth, Bella," he said disapprovingly. "You're not going to do anything with that fist so please put it down."

_Wanna fucking bet?_

"You can try," he read my mind, "but I could just as easily get all of this from you now as having you tied up in the backseat."

"Dick," I hissed.

"Try me," he growled.

How many staring contests would he rope me into in only a handful of hours? God, how much lighter I'd feel after a single slap across his face.

"As I was saying. I spent hours and hours with Jake—"

"Move on. If you think I want to hear every inane thing the two of you did, you're mistaken."

"Asshole."

"Move. On."

"When highschool finished, I was the only one of the two of us who wanted to pursue college. I did community for two years before transferring to Seattle—"

"Is this going somewhere?"

"If you shut the fuck up we'll see, now won't we?" I said sweetly.

A sliver of skin jumped over the edge of his jaw before he sighed, and he waved one of his hands in the air as a sign for me to continue. I imagined that if we were on an even slightly less sketchy terrain he would have had pulled over and had me pinned beneath him, whether choking the life out of me or seducing the sense out me I wasn't sure. He liked to alternate, this man.

"I met my fiancée in Seattle," my quieted voice told him. "He was in one of my minor electives and he asked to borrow a pen, flirting with me, I gave it to him, and a few months later we were dating."

"We're skipping by months now?"

"You don't want to hear every little thing, remember?"

"Murder seems more important than an unrequited high school crush."

"Tough shit. You complain too much. May I?"

He waved.

"Obviously I couldn't drive all the way back to La Push every day to see Jake so we settled for once a week, a lot of protest on his part, and he phoned once in the morning and once at night. It barely took a week of my new relationship with James for Jacob to notice how we were communicating just a little less and less every day and I was doing my best to keep it from him for as long as I could. I knew it would hurt him. One day he just came to my dorm, made a scene and demanded to know if I was with someone. Alice and Rosalie were there. I told him yes. He put his fist through my wall—which I ended up paying for—and left without another word.

"I was 19 then, and of course I'd dated on the side and went to parties and all that other fun stuff but none of that ever intersected my time with Jake. In high school, while I did have a decent sized group of friends, I still knew how to balance them out well enough with him that he didn't get jealous or begin asking questions. With James, I never knew what the plans were because he never made plans. He just did shit, randomly. And Jake didn't like that one bit.

"They met maybe six months into my relationship. I had James over for a movie and Jacob just showed up. It felt like I was in the middle of a dusty field, waiting for either man to shake hands and walk away so I could give the okay to draw pistols. It was really hostile in there. Jake made a hell of a lot more effort to see me after that. They hated each other off the bat, and James would often mock Jacob, calling him the little lost and left out pup, and I would have to talk Jake out of decking my man each time because James wouldn't have stood a chance in hell in fisticuffs."

I stopped to catch my breath, and when I opened my eyes I noticed that I no longer felt the jostling of the car. We were parked in a tiny fissure embedded in the rocks of a baby mountain that branched off of a huge one, front just poking out of the mouth.

_Gee, another cave._

"Why'd we stop?" I asked, confused.

"Because we've been driving since dawn," he responded. "Sun's already set. It's too dangerous to drive at night."

I nodded. That made sense.

"Why did _you _stop?" he countered.

"My mouth is dry."

"Hop out. We could both use a stretch. It's highly unlikely anyone will find us here so we can sleep in the cave, if you'd prefer."

My nose wrinkled at the thought but it sounded leagues better than spending another night bunched up on the car bench.

I threw my shoulder into the stubborn door and climbed out of the vehicle stiffly. As I twisted this way and that and stretched my arms over my head I looked around.

The opening in the rocks was just as I had called it, a fissure. It didn't go further than another 40 feet at best from the car, and the ceiling slanted down dramatically the further in you went, closing up altogether where it met the floor.

I looked over the hood of the compact blue car I'd lived in for the last few days and watched Edward gather all of the blankets from the back into his arms and throw them over his shoulder. I volunteered my help by collecting a few of my own and bringing them to the center of our little space, dropping them in a pile. It explained why there was so little space in the car now; there were so many damn blankets!

I considered counting them all but the second I heard Edward pop the trunk I was shuffling back to his side and peering over his shoulder at my bag filled with food.

"We're going to stay here for a day or two," he said nonchalantly while handing me the bag, "so it won't kill us if you had a drink or two. Don't make that face at me—there's a nasty snowstorm headed this way and it's suicide driving into that. We're in no rush. Besides, whoever's after us will believe we're pressing on to make it across the border before the storm hits."

"How are you so confident they won't think the opposite," I asked falling onto the blankets. I set the bag aside and began to make the mass into a rug of sorts so I wasn't forced to sit on the floor.

He didn't answer me; he just smiled.

Edward arranged my medical supplies beside the bag and sat parallel to me, producing a lighter from his pocket. He reached over, found a number of twigs and sticks and such, put them in a pile between us, and set the bundle on fire. It was small, not very impressive, but warmth was warmth.

"How long is this going to last us?" I questioned.

"I give it an hour before it goes out. You'll be asleep by then and I can get out there before the snow falls to get bigger firewood. It'll be no use to us wet. Let's eat, I'll get you changed, and then you'll rest. You choose dinner for the night." He got to his feet in one graceful movement and went back to the car to bring the water gallons. I sifted through the bag in his absence, and grinned as I pulled out my brownie and cookies.

Jackpot.

I closed the bag after taking out a few sandwiches to go with my snack and tossed one to Edward as he was already back in his seat across from me. We ate in a mutual silence with the cracking fire as our background, and I watched Edward the entire time.

It wasn't until he began to unwrap the cellophane from his meal that I couldn't take my eyes off of him, and I found everything he'd done since then to be considered art. His nimble fingers peeling away the plastic; how he hitched one knee up to his chest and left the other to lie on the floor, wrapping it around its brother; when he ran his hand over his face to push the hair out of his eyes; how his jaw moved as he chewed. It was all enrapturing.

I always found him beautiful, but at this moment he was the center of everything for me.

And the sick realization that I only thought this because we were back in a cave disgusted me.

It disgusted me because it was true.

He looked up at me then, and the way the body of fire threw his shadow across the wall behind him made him seem bigger, made me feel smaller, as we watched each other.

If he decided now that he wanted to break that fourth wall between us, that he'd grown tired of the games and the playing and teasing and flirting…that he wanted to fuck me right here on this cold, stone floor…I would let him.

I would _help him _want to.

I would even offer myself.

Because the way my skin tingled with the heavy energy between me and my caveman was just too much to ignore right now.

_Fuck_…

* * *

**Author's Note:** Alright, we sigh on three: _1...2...3...! "_OH, BELLA!"

I do not envy the girl.

Well...she does have our favorite caveman so maybe a little ;)

Until next time, y'all!


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note: **Hey, everyone! So many changes to the site lately! Mucho gracias to all of you wonderful readers for sticking this out with me, too!

This one is ridiculously short; purposely though. I'd like to play a silly game with you all though, so read and see me below! Oh, and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 28: Avoid It

"GOOD NIGHT!" I shouted as I pulled a blanket over my head. I dropped down onto the ground and curled up against my makeshift pillow, turned toward my nearest wall, away from him. I listened out for any sign of life behind me for a moment and allowed myself to relax having heard nothing. I had no need to worry if I didn't hear him. He would either ignore me or go about collecting his wood. I had the urge to sing myself a song to lull me to sleep but didn't want any undue attention put on myself.

So I counted.

At 723 seconds the clunking of wood hitting stone went off behind me and I startled. Just a small, short-lived jump, but one that Edward had without doubt seen. I didn't uncurl myself from the ball or unwrap my body from the pillow. I barely so much as breathed.

"Are you avoiding me under there?"

The sound of his soft voice so very near me didn't surprise me, lying beside me. For whatever reason, though he possessed the footsteps of a phantom, what gave away how near or far he was from me was the tangible crackling of static between us, the electricity that drummed and played along with the beat of my heart that only Edward's presence controlled.

I stared into the dark of blanket, at the faint shimmering of Edward's eyes, and nodded.

"You feel it too then?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

I nodded anyway.

He shrugged. "Must be nostalgia. Our relationship has a very rich history involving caves."

"You know what bothers me most about what I'm feeling though?" I croaked to the blanket. I cleared my throat. "That I didn't even like you while we were in the caves. I hated you," I confessed to the dark; guilt laced my words. "I don't feel particularly bad about that though. I only feel bad because I don't feel bad… if that makes any sense."

"Good. That would be the appropriate response to someone who kidnaps you from your world. Somewhat, anyway."

"You took everything from me," I whispered.

"I know."

"The thing is, I'm not sure if I can have any of it back—and that is what scares me."

He sighed, not an irritated sound but as if he was contemplating my words. "You will get it back, Isabella. I've told you as much."

The temptation to roll my eyes was just too much so I did.

The fire was stronger now, provided a more comfy, homey background than it had before, and I found myself enjoying the light snapping as I rummaged through my thoughts. Edward was silent, always ready to answer a question though usually not willing. I didn't need to move the blanket to know that his eyes were directly on mine, and that he would be gazing into my soul if I removed the layer from between us so I left it there, regardless that it was getting stuffy underneath.

"It's embarrassing to think about—how easily I let you manipulate me back in the caves, I mean." _And even now…_ "That's one instance in time that I have locked up in the back of my head never to be viewed or discussed again."

"Mm. Yes, your complacency bothered me as well. I had so many very mixed emotions about you at the time. Were you an enemy? Were you innocent? Were you incompetent for not showing any life preservation, or were you a deadly assassin who deserved Academy Awards? I couldn't figure you out, and after Jacob showed, I simply had to go with my gut."

"I know it sounds kind of lame," I muttered, "but I blame that on the pills. After all the drugs left my system I was perfectly prepared to put up a fight."

He nodded his head slowly. "Yes...I suppose that's true...but once we're back in civilization I'm going to work tirelessly to prove it was more of your brain reacting to the loss of medication and not the meds themselves that gave you a slightly thicker backbone."

"Slightly?"

"Very slightly."

"Better than none, I guess."

"You would think so, but I wish even now that it was thicker still."

I sighed. "You and me both, buddy."

"_I_."

"Shut up."

A light pressure glanced the top of my head then, and I watched minutely as the blanket was pulled down until my gaze met his.

"May I?" he asked politely, and there was no need to elaborate or even really give a verbal answer as he drew me into the circle of his arms and positioned me so I was on his chest. I laid my ear against his heart and closed my eyes as I listened to its steady thump. The hand on my waist moved upward to wrap around my shoulders.

"Care to finish your story, Miss. Swan?"

"James proposed to me after a year of being together," I continued quietly. I had just been on the verge of falling asleep, too. "I thought it was kind of weird that he did it while Jake was with us at the time but, you know; I'm a girl; I was happy regardless. It wasn't fancy or anything, and there was no indication that he was going to do it either. It just…happened." I shrugged.

"What _was_ fancy though, was that big old 2 karat rock he slid on my finger. Oh, you should have seen my face, Edward."

"Given the way you reacted when I gave you my mother's ring it couldn't have been very tame."

"Not. At. All. And then when he told me the price…"

He laughed, and the sound of it made me bite into my lip to keep from grinning like an idiot. "Loaded, was he?"

"I kind of wondered that myself. He was very cheap with dates and stuff like that, but he drove a really nice car. He lived in a small apartment downtown but it was filled with some really lavish furniture. I don't know, I think he was rich. I didn't care about his money though, which was why I insisted we return the ring for something simpler."

"Can I ask about that, as well?"

"About what?"

"Why you dislike anyone spending money on you," he elaborated with his lips in my hair.

I shrugged again. "It just doesn't feel right. I don't feel like I've done anything to deserve someone spending anything _big _on me. If you'd like to purchase something from a pawn shop that's less than three digits, please, be my guest. But don't go overboard on my account."

"Sometimes," he sighed, "that's just what a man will want to do for a woman though. We could usually care less whether you think you deserve it or not; we want to show you that we can take care of you and make you happy."

Something in my chest wrenched painfully then, and I couldn't even open my mouth to respond; I simply nodded.

"Finish," he ordered once the silence rode over again, fingers twisting in my hair.

"Keep your hair on," I muttered. "There really isn't much more to the story; James died a little afterward."

"Ah, ah, Bella. Don't you dare get vague on me now. I heard every word exchanged between you and Jacob Black in the caves. It would be a shame to lie to me now."

I groaned. "You are so nosey. Has anyone ever told you that, Edward? Because you are."

"That's nice, now please finish."

"Jacob lied to me. James lied to me. Everyone is a liar. The end."

"Bella."

"I'm so tired. Just let me go to sleep."

"I can't do that, _chère__._"

"Listen, the absolute bullshit excuse that I got from them both won't really be of much use to you, I swear. It doesn't even make sense to me. They're both liars, okay?"

"Bella…"

"So help me, Edward, if you don't leave me alone I will go sleep in the car. Just. Drop it."

I couldn't be sure of how far I had pushed the envelope then but it must not have been too far if he hadn't tossed me off of him yet…Or threatened me. Progress?

"Tomorrow," I whispered after a while, remorse curdling my stomach. "I promise. I'm just too tired right now. Please?"

"I'll hold you to your word," he said almost inaudibly.

"Okay."

The brink was closer than I thought as I was asleep only seconds later.

* * *

**GAME TIME!**

My ending notes are usually boring so let's play a game! Whoever can guess what it is Jacob and James lied to Bella about gets the loveliest picture of a cupcake that the internet can find.

Ready...**GO!**

Also, if anyone would like to shoot the breeze, my PM box is open to you! I love you guys so don't be shy. Thank you for reading, and until next time! :)


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's Note:** Hey, y'all! We had some close calls with the guesses but no one was _exactly _on the money, which means I'm doing my job right. I gotta run, so this chapter is mostly unedited, and I _sincerely _hope you all enjoy because its about damn time this happened!

* * *

Chapter 29: Therapy

"Ohhh, fuuuuuck," I groaned loudly, curling and stretching my body around and around until I heard as many things pop as I could reach. I flopped on my back when I was satisfied and watched Edward flash his thumbs across the keyboard of his little phone.

"Good morning," he called from across the cave, not bothering to look up.

I scratched my stomach and yawned. "Hey. What are you doing?"

"Just saying hello to a friend."

I pursed my mouth and rolled onto my hands and knees, slowly rising into a stretch not too dissimilar to how my cat would, and stood up to jog in place.

The soft tapping of Edward's thumbs on the keyboard ceased as he glanced up to watch me and he gave me a quizzical look. I didn't stop.

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" he asked after a minute or so.

I shook my head vigorously. "Nope. I'm exercising."

"Do…you do this a lot?"

"Nope. But I've been cooped up in a car for the past few days, injured, and I'd like to take advantage of the open space and general good health at the moment though. And fuck your wife. I hated that bitch and her tight catsuit."

"Bella…"

"Excuse me, ex-wife."

"You shouldn't be moving around like that. Sit down and get something to eat."

"I said I feel fine," I panted. "I'm good; I'll eat when I'm tired."

"You sound tired as it is."

"Uh-uh. I'm good."

"Mm." He slid the keyboard shut and placed it in the back pocket of his black jeans. I watched with narrowed eyes as he skirted around me. He put his hand on my hip, dug his fingers into my skin. My feet stopped moving at once. I couldn't even feel my legs, like he paralyzed me from the waist down. I collapsed against his chest and he let me, guiding me down to the floor and propping my back up on a blanket.

"That's better," he grinned at me from over my shoulder, and I scowled at him. "Don't worry; that isn't permanent. After you eat you should be fine."

"Not like I can reach the bag now unless I crawled to it," I grumbled. "Give it to me."

"Be nice," he chastised handing it to me. "I'll go get you a stick to put a sandwich on and you can hold it over the fire."

"Maybe I don't want a sandwich for breakfast," I challenged as I rummaged for one.

"Tough. Don't go anywhere, beautiful."

My body went rigid at his words. What the hell got into him? I stared at his back as he strolled out of the mouth of the cave and went back to sifting through sweets to find my drab meal.

"I found the closest thing to an entire branch," he said when he returned, "seeing as how you can't move and all. If it's still to short I'll just move you closer to the pit."

I poked the tip of the stick through the middle of my sandwich and held it just over the fire. The top crust caught on fire.

"Help me here," I panicked, and Edward positioned himself behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle and lifting me, then pulled a second bundle of blankets beneath my bottom so I was higher up, almost leveled with the height of the flames.

He asked if that was any better and I nodded as I extinguished my sandwich by waving it around in the air.

"Weren't a girl scout when you were younger, were you?"

"'Fraid not. Renee would have loved that though."

"Well you'll pick something up while we're in here. I can teach you a few mountaineer tricks...if you feel as good as you say do."

I nodded. "Sure. You weren't a boy scout when you were younger, were you?"

"Sadly, no. I'm just a lot more used to hiding out in the mountains than you are."

"And here I was thinking I was shacked up with a normal Norman."

"Cute. Eat now. Before we go out I need to check your bandages and redress you. There are only a few hours before the blizzard starts and visibilty drops to 0."

"Isn't it dangerous to go out at all right now? I mean, people _are_ looking for us."

"Do you really have so little faith in me, Isabella? Let them look. I know how to cover my tracks."

"I have plenty of faith in you," I replied around a mouth full of food. "I'd just rather be safer than sorry."

"We'll be fine. We're too far off the grid for them to look for us here, and in a rather awkward place as well."

"What about the car?" I mumbled. I _really _needed something to drink. "The front of it's sticking out like a homing beacon, don't you think?"

"It's covered in snow and hidden behind huge bodies of trees. It's fine."

"Are you not going to eat, mountain boy? Even grown cavemen need to build up their strength."

He gives me the strangest look and cocks his head to the side. "You're being very cute today. I'm not sure I completely trust your sanity."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm just fine, thank you, and my meal would taste better if I weren't being watched."

"I always watch you."

"And the food tastes no more appetizing."

"I've already eaten," he answered.

"Sandwich?"

"Fruit."

"You're going to collapse on that diet."

"That is extremely ironic coming from you," he snorted. "You've lost about 5 pounds since I last saw you and your veins are straining against your skin."

I scowled down at the little square of food I had left and my mood blackened. I didn't ever want to think about Volterra again if I could help it. Those days were too dark, too full of emptiness; too unsure. The cons far outweighed the pros, and in hindsight Volterra was much like a personal prison that I was detained in with the specific purpose of questioning my _own_ sanity.

But that time felt so very far away from where I was now, and the world seems to have reclaimed its balance as it should be, save those few very important issues that my mind refused to bring up.

"I didn't eat much," I shrugged.

"I see that."

"I have you to blame for that," I grumbled as I shoved the last of my sandwich in my mouth.

I stared at my lap with bated breaths, waiting. Waiting for him to throw a snarky comment back at me, to tell me that I was my own vice; waiting for him to tell me that I was my worst offender; hell, for anything really.

Nothing came but the silence. It taunted me, trapped me in my own mind games and made me look at the entire Volterra experience all over again. I had blamed Edward for everything that went wrong there, even things that couldn't possible have been his fault because he _wasn't_ there.

But how could I see it any differently? Had he been how much could have gone wrong? If he'd simply taken me with him, how much of that heartache could have been avoided?

In my internal struggle I failed to notice Edward step away from his post against the wall, and still payed him no mind as he went into the trunk of the car—but my eyes met his as he crouched down in front of me with a wine bottle in his left hand, and my cheek cradled in his right.

"I'm not sure how many times I can apologize to you before you believe me," he said softly, slowly, head tilted to hold my gaze, "but I truly am sorry to you, Isabella. You're absolutely right, and this darker aura that surrounds you now _is_ my fault. I fucked up, I know I did, but there isn't anything I can do about it now, or ever. What happened happened, and that fact will never change. Its constant now, will forever hang in the air between us, and the only thing both you and I can do about is move on and try to make it better. Okay?"

My vision of him blurred as he pulled the cork from the wine bottle's neck and took a small swig, and the tears rolled fully down my face as he put the lip to my mouth with a quiet, "Cheers."

I took a small, much needed sip and he set the bottle down a few feet away from us. He stood up, and his smile was boyish, almost timid as he held his hand out to me and said, "Now then, how about we get started on that hike?"

The ground was a soft, crunchy sheet of white as we ventured down the unrouted trail behind our shelter. Edward was right— the trees were one solid, thick mass that shielded us near perfectly from the outside world. It almost seemed impossible that he managed to wriggle the car through it all, but such talents should have been expected of him by now.

The air was cool and laced with tiny bits of snow as it blew downwind, swirling my hair about my face with it. I trekked carefully behind Edward, no more than a few feet behind him, and he would pull me into his side now and again when the root of a tree reached up above ground to greet us, releasing me and returning to his spot as leader once I was safely over.

The walk was therapeutic. The fresh air was doing wonders for me, and the black thoughts of just an hour prior were far, far lodged in the back of my mind; behind the sound of the bite of my boot kissing the earth and the chattering blackcaps; behind the smell and awesome sights of towering fir and walnut trees; behind the electric tingling of Edward's fingers stroking my knuckles.

We walked what seemed aimlessly for about an hour before Edward came to a halt, and me looking everywhere but straight walked right into his solid back. Edward's arm reached out behind him to steady a hand against my hip, and I flushed some shade of pink when he turned to give me a lopsided smile.

"You alright back there?" he inquired, and that beautiful faint accent of his melted my insides.

"I'm good," I nodded. "Why'd you stop?"

"We're here."

I paused and looked all around me, some places twice to see what set this part of the mountain apart from the rest.

"Here?" My brow furrowed.

"Yes, here."

I pulled the cuffs of my sweater over my wrists and crossed my arms, my lip jutting out as I continued to fruitlessly see what he did.

"Edward, there's_ literally_ nothing here. What are we doing?"

He dropped my backpack from the crook of his elbow at the base of a thick spruce tree and grabbed hold of my arm. We were on somewhat of a downward slope so I was a lot shorter than him from where we stood until he wrapped me in his side, where he still towered. He pulled me so we were standing in front of a tree slightly thinner than the others, but looked to be a bit taller. He pointed up.

"O...kay?"

He looked down into my face with a slight grin.

"You aren't scared? Nervous even?"

"Nervous of what? What are you talking about?"

It wasn't until he leg-swept my knees from under me and trapped me to his chest that I understood.

"No," I protested. "No, Edward, absolutely not. No. Put me down."

"I thought you weren't scared."

"That was before I knew you wanted to act like a Neanderthal and climb trees. No!"

He lifted his foot to catch onto a sturdy slate of wood.

"Edward!"

"You might want to put your arms around my neck. There's no guarantee that I'll be able to catch you with one arm if you fall backwards."

So I put one arm around him like he said, and angrily beat against his chest with my other fist until I released a satisfactory amount of aggression. He laughed at me, and then we were hauling ass up the tree. There was no way I could handle the height so I buried my head in his neck. It should have been a crime how impossibly good he smelled, of man and soap and nut and spice.

As we climbed higher and higher I was immediately taken back to the cave in Forks, to when Edward showed me his hidey-hole full of ice doubled as an escape route, and how he scaled the rock with me in his arms much like this.

_"Trust me?" he'd asked._

_"I trust your perseverance and strength," I countered._

_"Then hold on."_

How different our dynamic was back then. Granted, they weren't his to take away, but that was beside the matter. I nuzzled my nose into the strong column of his throat and sighed.

"Are we almost there?" I questioned, muffled by his skin.

"Nearly. What are you thinking about?"

"Just the last time you wanted to scale nature," I replied, and he chuckled.

"You didn't hide before. Why now?"

"Because before we were only going up 20 feet, not 50."

"Eh, s'not so bad. I'm the one climbing."

"Yes, and I'm the unwilling passenger."

"You won't be so unwilling when you see why we're doing this. We're here. Open your eyes, chère."

Calling the scene layed out before me "beautiful" wouldn't have even been fair, but bewitching and grand were some names that came to mind. The view was probably what dreams were made of. Miles upon miles upon miles of white topped forestry that stretched far as the eye could see, cut off only by the slow rolling wave of fog. That we were on a mountain put us on an angle, and looking up, we were directly at the center of it; the summit's tip capped by low hanging clouds. If we were closer to the top I could probably touch one. I wanted to; but I was beyond grateful that he took me sightseeing at all.

"You like?" he inquired softly, and there was a certain amount of pride in his question, as if he personally planted every tree and hung each cloud.

"Its gorgeous," I breathed.

"Are you feeling any better than before?"

"Much." I tightened my grip around him to huddle in for an awkward yet serious hug. I was feeling better. "Thank you."

"Up you go."

He laughed at the face I made at him but promised he wouldn't let go of me. I released my hold on him only to immediately cling onto the thick branch in front of us, then proceeded to climb on in a shuffle-crawl. I ended up laying on my stomach.

Edward climbed higher up before flinging himself down onto the branch, and I screamed Bloody Mary as we shook up and down haphazardly. My terror was shanked off less than a few seconds later as I watched him. He was more beautiful than the scenery; and that laugh-that rare, deep, bubble of mirth he got as he tossed his head back and let loose was breathtaking to see.

"Are you alright?" He was struggling to contain his chuckles as he looked down at me but I didn't mind.

"Ass. Help me up at least."

It took a lot of coaxing and gentle words to actually get me there but after a few terror filled moments I was sitting vertically, tucked into Edward's side as we watched the fog roll a little closer every few minutes. Neither of us spoke as we looked out into the great Switzerland Mountains but I couldn't have been any more comfortable than I was then.

"I was 5 when I climbed my first tree, if I recall. It was a great elm that had been planted just as the hotel I grew up in opened to the public. I believe I was hiding from the staff; I'd just stolen another customer's suitcase and they chased after me. He didn't have much. Clothes and papers and the like. I was bored so I wasn't looking for anything in particular, just some excitement.

My mother hadn't been back for days at the time. My aunt watched over me while we stayed at the hotel waiting for my mum to bring something back for us. Food, money, something to pawn off, anything. But she was unreliable; she came back when she felt like it so we simply grew dependent on the staff's generosity to get us through to the next day...

"Ah...yeah...climbing the tree was um, something I'd never done before. I was more pleased that I made it up there at all, and I stayed up there all day until someone finally came up to get me, and I was scolded the second my feet touched soil for losing another customer with my antics."

As I looked up into Edward's lovely face I saw more emotion there than I'd seen from him from all the time we knew each other rolled into one. There was a tiny curve to the corner of his mouth, a sad smile. His eyes were deep, darker as he recalled this part of his past, the corners tightened with stress.

But my heart broke in two at the inordinate amount of pain in them.

I wanted to touch him, to wrap my arms around him and comfort him; pull his head down to my lap and stroke his hair from scalp to ends.

I didn't. Instead I said, "What was your mother like?" because the yearning to know was consuming me, because I knew it was the mention of her that gave Edward such affliction.

"She was inconstant, never there. Fickle, temperamental, negligent. Jean Masen was selfish, she only cared for herself-but God was she beautiful. Movie star gorgeous and a body that was thin but constructed specifically for the opposite sex."

When he didn't continue I pressed a little harder but didn't push when he didn't answer immediately.

"You said she didn't love you..."

"No," he said distantly, as if he were somewhere else. "She didn't love anyone but herself. And Anthony Masen, but he didn't love her, and I was the product of such unrequited love so she in turn despised me. Why didn't she abandon me? Because I was the only link to my father that she had left. Masochistic, that one, and it sadly runs in the family. We never know when to let things go."

He turned to me then, and I was paralyzed by the dysphoria in his eyes, how lifeless and drained he was simply talking about this woman. Tears welled up in my own and thankfully he looked away before they fell. I clasped onto his arm and wiped the moisture off in his jacket, desperately trying to get a hold of myself.

"Your aunt?" I croaked quietly.

"Half the money that my mother bought in from lending herself to men went to support my aunt's drug problem. She was really my grandmother but she prefered I called her my aunt when other's asked, especially if a man asked; my mother's mother. She got half because she would also contribute to income by whoring herself but I barely got a meal a day because I was too young to do anything. Jean didn't take to useless children."

"Oh." The tears kept coming and coming.

"We did a lot of traveling though. I suppose that was the highlight of my childhood. Whether we moved because the law was sniffing out my mother for prostitution or theft or robbery, we were always on the go. We went all over Europe, never through Italy, but everywhere around it, until she soaked up as much pity from failing hotels and motels as they were willing to give and she milked all of her customers for every cent they had, and then we moved again.

"There were a number of times where I didn't see Jean again for weeks, and those were the times where we ended back up at a hotel we'd already been once. I'll never forget it Bella, the pity and condolement in their expressions as they all gave me those sorrowful smiles. I resent my mother for that, for making me witness that pity over and over and over as she went out slaving for her baser indulgences. Sex and money and men and liqour. I didn't factor into her life by a margin, so I left. And I still don't look back. I can't."

His voice cracked and my body was beyond my control as I took his face in my hands and kissed him chastely, then clung to him so hard I was probably shaking with the force of it. Hesitance was nil as he embraced me, and my hand rose into his hair as he put his head against my shoulder. I knew what I was doing the second I registered vulnerability in his words. My caveman had entirely too much pride to allow me to see him breakdown but as long as I didn't see it, he wouldn't mind being near me, and I couldn't bear to be away from him right now. His body was so tense against mine. He didn't move or shake aside from the clenching of his fingers at my back, and my heart broke many times over the longer he stayed like this.

There was a certain closeness I felt to Edward now, a fresh magnetism that pulsed within me for him as he poured his heart out to me. This man in my arms was not the man that kidnapped me from my life and dragged me into his own cruel and violent one.

No, in my arms was a boy who experienced far too much change and neglect in his past to know what normal was.

The words were coming out of my mouth before I could filter them.

"James never planned to marry me," I explained with fresh tears. "I was a decoy for him, someone who hid him from suspicion. He was some type of gangster or something, something illegal, laying low until no one was looking for him anymore. Jacob knew who he was but my life was on the line if he acted on his knowledge, so he just kept an eye on me.

"It was a month before we were supposed to marry, August, and I'd been gone for a few weeks before the new semester started. I walk into my apartment to see Jacob with James at gunpoint, and he was shouting, angry at him. I was screaming loudly, someone else in the apartment should have heard me but no one came. No matter how loud I was Jacob got louder and louder, ignoring me, just yelling what could have doubled the Miranda Rights out to James.

"And then he stopped, so I stopped...and James just had the most eerie expression on his face before he said, 'No,' and Jacob shot him."

I couldn't breathe. My chest was too tight from the airless hiccoughs throughout my story and I couldn't breathe. I was blind as torrent after torrent of salt water flushed from my eyes and now I clung to Edward for support.

"He shot him, Edward. Right in front of me. He-he took his life...right there, in my house, and a bunch of thugs came marching in and took his body away and I never saw him again, Edward. They lied to me, Edward. Jacob lied; James lied, but I loved him and he's dead!"

I was unraveling, slowly, each carefully taped together strand falling apart around me so I was naked to the ebbing pain in my chest. It all came back to me-the anxiety, the depression, the seperation from the outside world, all of it barreling in and backward, attacking me. It was the closest thing to drowning I'd ever felt, the grief that submerged me head deep. It was so much I couldn't hold myself up anymore, so I didn't. I let go.

I opened my eyes, and not five seconds passed before another tear was streaming down my face. I was on my back, and the familiar snapping of burning firewood filled my ears. Edward lay not a foot away from me, eyes hooded as he trailed two fingers up and down my side. I turned to mirror his posture and extended my hand to smooth over the expanse of his forehead, to trace the sharp protrusion of his cheekbone.

"I signed Jacob's gag order, and in exchange for my silence, my life and the life of the people close to me, I would never see Jacob again. The contract is moot since not only did he come back into my life, but he almost killed me too, and that's why I'm telling you all this now."

Edward moved, laying a hand near my head and hauling himself up so he was hovering above me now, staring down at me. The hand that wasn't supporting his weight cradled the side of my face as he touched his nose to mine, breathing, "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," across my lips.

"I'm sorry you had a shitty childhood," I whispered.

"I'm sorry you had a shitty adulthood," he smirked, and I didn't have to force my smile as his mouth met mine.

His kiss was slow, lingering, almost worshipping as his tongue peeked out to mine in the space between us. Our mouths melded together perfectly, our uneven breaths in a strange sync. He balanced on his forearm to touch me with both hands and I draped my arms around his neck so we were as close as close could be.

"I'm sorry you had a flighty mother," I mumbled.

"I'm sorry you have horrible taste in men."

"Shut up."

I shoved on his shoulders and he rolled over, taking me with him, not saying another word as I stripped him of his clothing. Jacket, shirt-tossed into a forgotten corner as I reattached my mouth to his and he once again rolled us over so he was on top. With each piece of my own clothing that was tossed I felt freer, as if pounds of invisible tension were being plucked off.

He kissed and licked down my neck to my exposed chest, taking my breasts into his hands and applying his expert mouth to each of my hardened nipples until I was panting and writhing. I pulled his head back up to my own and crashed my lips to his, placing my hands on his taut stomach and reaching down, into his briefs where I manage to release his unflagging stiffness from its prison. I pumped him once, twice, and then moved away from his kiss to lick across my palm and take him in my hand. He groaned, a sound that buzzed right between my thighs, and dropped his head against my shoulder.

"Do you want it?" he rasped, and to my shock I actually froze to think about it. I wanted it, of course I did; so what was the problem?

I'd paused for too long; holding my face in his hands he filled my mouth with his warm tongue as he pulled me over him once more, my knees straddling his hips. Tiny rocks showered out of my hair as his fingers roved expertly over my sensitive flesh and I screamed biting down into his shoulder. I was in sensory overload, rocking and undulating against his hot palm as he brought me closer to the edge. I could taste it right on the forefront of my palette.

And then he stopped.

"No," I cried, "I liked it! Why'd you-"

He positioned himself right at my entrance, holding it there, staring up at me through glossy darkened emeralds. I shivered and he brushed the hair away from my face, his gaze steady and uncharacteristically tender.

"Do it," he whispered to me. "If you want it, do it."

There was nothing to think about. I closed my eyes, placed him against me and I sank down, slowly, taking him inside of me so he was where I needed him, where he belonged. I took him at a snail's pace, adjusting, and my mouth opened further with each slothful inch. When I stopped just short of completion, he caught my hips and pulled me the rest of the way down so there was nothing left between us, and he owned me; I belonged to him. There was nothing else but his cock inside of me, his fingers dug into my heated skin, and my head thrown back as I began to move.

We finally—finally—got this far, and I wouldn't dare disgrace myself by coming so quickly, ending this before we'd even begun; but the feel of his body beneath me, sweat slicked and hard and hot, was pleasure too powerful to bear. I moved faster now, holding back the familiar hiccoughs in my throat as I found my rhythm and Edward pushed up to meet me. The thick friction of flesh had me gasping now, clutching at his arms, reaching for the release I was greedily prepared for.

And Edward was generous enough to give it to me. He peeled my hand from his bicep; put it between our bodies, forcing me to touch myself.

I shattered.

The effect was instant, electric. I screamed, and I could feel each and every inch of his turgid flesh as I clenched around him, milking him as I collapsed against his chest, my bones the double of jelly.

But he wasn't done with me yet, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to weep or rejoice. He trapped my body against his, kissing every inch of my face, and turned me underneath him not breaking the connection, still lodged deep within me, circulating and rubbing and thrusting things I didn't known existed.

I hadn't come down from my first powerful orgasm when the second one struck with a jolt, and I keened as my hips lifted off of the ground to meet him, my nails raking down his perfect back as I thrashed in a deliciously delirious haze—and he was with me, holding me to him to the point of pain as he spilled inside of me with a long, choked groan, and we collapsed together.

He was too heavy for me, I knew that, but I just couldn't gather the strength to move, or the will to want to. Instead I crossed my ankles at his waist and locked my arms around his neck, pressing my lips against sweat soaked forehead and shoulder.

Gradually the earth ceased to rock and the ground grew steady once more as I came down. Crackling of the burning woodpile beside us and howling of wind filtered back to me as I opened my eyes. I turned sluggishly, and meshed my lips to Edward's. His eyes remained closed but he kissed me back, and I sighed, completely content.

I was tired, exhausted really, but there was one thing that flipped about in the back of my mind as I began to drift off. I tightened my grasp on the man in my arms and nuzzled my nose against his.

"Edward," I called sleepily, and I didn't wait for a response as I whispered, "I love you," against his lips and fell into peaceful oblivion, not the least bit perturbed as his entire body went rigid on top of me.

* * *

**Author's Note: **'Scuse me while I go into hiding.


	30. Chapter 30

Author's Note: Nothing too note worthy to say but I love you guys! You weren't the only one waiting for the deed! Perhaps we'll celebrate...

* * *

Chapter 30: Resistance

I woke slowly, tranquilly, my entire body feeling relaxed and sated. I raised my arms above my head and stretched like a pampered house cat. It was a slow awakening, and I wasn't in any hurry to rush it. I let the sensations drift back to me bit by bit-the tastes, textures and myriad of delights of last night that were both gentle and not gentle at all. I was glowing with a power that was foreign and irresistible and my soul was equally light and enthralled.

My heart stayed blissfully out of my mind, just hovering and floating where I could see it—in the most dangerous place in the world.

"Good, you're awake. Get up. Put your clothes on. We're leaving."

A shirt was tossed carelessly over my face, and I pursed my lips as I pulled it off patiently and sat up.

Edward was leaning against the trunk of the car, facing me, completely focused on his little phone, and I knew his gorgeous body well enough to see he was radiating tension. His clothes were fresh, face apparently shaven.

"Hurry up and eat something," he commanded staring down at the little machine. "There's enough wine left in that bottle to finish your meal with, but not enough for you to get drunk."

"Okay," I said, because I didn't know what else to say. He hadn't even glanced at me, busy with his phone, and since he was speaking in short, clipped sentences he must not have been in the mood for conversation. Shouldn't I have been the one having post-coital regrets?

I considered wearing nothing but the sheet as I crawled to eat but then again I really enjoyed the way he took off my clothes in the first place, and I was perfectly willing to experience that again.

I had no clocks or little gadgets to tell me the time as Edward did but I guessed it was still early in the morning, maybe a little after dawn. I'd fallen into a deep, heavy sleep in his arms last night, and I realized with awe as I watched him that I still wanted him. Again.

And again.

And again.

I knew better than to catch feelings that I didn't wake up with him, but I couldn't help but feel a bit...disappointed that I didn't have a chance at round 2 with him.

The first time was a shock to the system; although there was plenty to enjoy, I hardly had time to savor, and the more I thought about last night the hotter and needier I grew. By the time I ran through the sandwich and sipped at the remaining wine I was ready to jump him.

Maybe not jump him, per se, as he would have probably slammed me down on the floor in self-defense, and while I appreciated his tensile strength I didn't want him using it against me. No, I would wait for him to come to me. Which he would. Because he wanted me as much as I wanted him I would wait, and, though it made no sense, I knew it was true.

I hummed to myself completely off-key as I wormed into clothes that fit but did not belong to me. I knew whose clothes they were without really having to think about it. I chose to ignore the thought in any case.

"You're not done yet?"

"Finished." I stepped into the boots beside him.

Holy smokes at a steakhouse he smelled good. It was his usual masculine smell but it simply wafted from him this morning. I continued to stand aside him, my hip against the trunk as I looked up at him, and it was blindingly clear that he was ignoring me.

It would be a trying, hard task, loving Edward Anthony Masen. He was hard and cold and dangerous, and at this moment very standoffish. A man who made so little mistakes and had as many skills on hand than I had hair on my head at his disposal, and if I had any sense I would be grateful for the distance that he was so obviously putting between us, I'd be fortifying the defenses that he broke down.

But I had no sense. I was bone-weary in the best possible ways and I was on the run for my life. I was safe with Edward—he wouldn't let anything happen to me—and I was in love with him.

Absolutely smitten.

Utterly and irrevocably head over heels.

Just for now though, I told myself, because in a few days' time Edward would relinquish his vice-like grip on my life and I would be back in my simple, sheltered American bubble where I could sift through the remnants of my fractured life.

"So when are we leaving for the States?" I perked up.

He didn't answer for a moment. Then he closed the little machine and turned to look at me, green eyes hooded and unreadable.

"Change of plans. We'll be going to the South of France for a...vacation of sorts."

"Vacation?" I echoed. "Edward, I want to go home. Fuck a vacation."

He shook his head. "Every airport headed west is watched. You have no chance of getting back at the moment."

"So, what? We're just going to roll over and let them do what they want? Have you seen the size of Volterra?"

"You fail to recall that we're not in Aro nor Caius' good graces. They still want you found and dead. They can't and won't help you here, chère."

I pushed two hands into my hair and sighed. Why did everything have to be so damned difficult?

"What's in the south of France?"

"Marseille. I have business there."

"And what does that have to with me?"

He shrugged.

"Nothing. Everything. Get in the car—we're going now."

"What about your boss' goons? They're looking for us.

"The storm is still going, Bella. We're leaving because there's a break and time to safely evacuate the country with no one the wiser. I don't have time for a million questions from you. Get in the car or I'll throw you in the car."

I huffed but otherwise stomped to the passenger's side. I slammed my door with unnecessary force as I held my face in my hand and scowled out the window. He could clean up by himself.

Instead of thinking of backwards steps just taken I fiddled with the reminder that I needed a shower. The evidence of last night's tryst was wiped off and smeared into one of the blankets that Edward would be picking up any second now and the thought made me cross my legs.

It didn't make any sense how much _more_ I wanted him now, _after_ we had sex. Wasn't it in Marais that I had the horrible misconception that sex would entirely purge us of our attraction? What a terrible, terrible idea.

And I wasn't feeling any better about the sex with Edward acting the way he was. The spaces had once again shifted in a way I wasn't prepared for, and it was, sadly, still too early to tell if it was repairable.

I chewed on my dirty thumbnail as Edward slid into the seat beside me. The car had barely come to life before his foot was on the pedal and he was easing us through the trees. I chose to close my eyes while he squeezed us out due to my paranoia. When he got too close to a thick tree I reached out for his hand and he would recoil, and when we lurched through a bit of snow I couldn't help touching the wheel where he would smack me away. I was probably irritating the hell out of him, so I just avoided the experience altogether.

My obsession with counting never faded, and I was counting my breaths one by one as the minutes passed. Edward offered me no solace and if he even remembered I was sitting next to him I would never know.

_Still too early_, I kept telling myself. _He needs some space; give him some time._ I could do that.

I'd fallen asleep, but I was still very aware. The seat jumped and rattled beneath me with the tumbling of the car over snow bluffs. I stretched my arms ahead of me and to my sides, and the back of my knuckles drew against Edward's right forearm. He jerked away as if I burned him with a hiss but otherwise kept his eyes firmly, almost forcefully, on the road. I was trying, I was, to give him a bit of space, some breathing room, so he could think about what happened between us, but he was making it so hard to stay in a neutral attitude when acting like a 6 foot dick. I almost wanted to "accidentally" touch him again.

I sat back in my seat instead, and stared straight ahead just as he did.

"How'd you sleep?" I asked, indifferent.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

He glanced over at me for half a second, and then went back to ignoring me. I tried again after a few minutes, unfazed.

"I slept well myself."

"Glad to hear it."

"I think you slept pretty well, too," I said bluntly.

"You assume so."

"I sure do." I did a small victory dance in my head seeing the side of his mouth turn up slightly.

"And what makes you so confident?"

"Just a hunch."

"Hm."

"Am I wrong?"

"I wouldn't say that. It was a very long day."

"Mm. And an even longer night."

The smile deflated in record time and a weird, thick tension settled around us. I looked over. His jaw was clenched, eyes tight around the corners and his fingers gripping the wheel too tightly. He had something to say, but he refused to come out with it. My frown mirrored his.

"So that's it then?"

"What's it?"

"We're just going to pretend it never happened? You're going to act like we didn't fuck last night?"

"Bella." His tone was sharp, reproachful.

"We had sex, Edward. Hot, passionate, toe-curling sex." I turned in my seat, pulling my leg beneath me to sit on and facing him fully. "It happened, we happened. Stop handling me with a 10 foot pole."

"It _shouldn't_ have happened," he growled, "and I'm at fault for taking advantage of you. We need boundaries; you're not very good at keeping them, so I'll fill the place."

My face twisted up. "Taking _advantage_ of me? What the fuck is that? I'm a grown ass woman. I was aware of what was happening and I wanted it. I don't need you to make excuses for me."

"Bella..."

"I thought we would be able to handle this like, you know, adults. Or at least that's what I was expecting from someone who uses sex as a weapon. For a man who can be 'bi, gay, Puerto Rican or Irish' you sure do have a problem addressing the subject."

He growled again. "Drop it."

"Or," I surmised undeterred, "or it's not the sex we had that's bothering-because we've kind of done it before. No...You're being a dick because I said I love you, aren't you? Aren't you?"

His eyes slid closed for a moment, and when they reappeared they were furious, almost wild. He refused to answer me but his grip on the wheel was white-knuckled. The tension was no longer radiating but engulfing us whole, pressing down on us. I wanted to run. My legs were tensed and fingers poised for the door but I had no idea where we were and the temperature was too low for me to survive even a few hours.

I was angry, I was embarrassed; hurt. I wished I could have taken the words from a few hours ago back before they reached him and swallow them down again, choke on them. They were obviously poisonous, venom filled words that had too much meaning for us, too many implications for our unstable relationship to withstand. Heat spread from the crown of my head to the flat of my feet. My tongue was too big for my mouth, but I needed to speak.

My voice was hushed as I affirmed, "I do love you."

The car jerked forward as his foot slammed against the accelerator.

"It's not like I need you to say or do anything, Edward," I sighed. "I could care less if you reciprocate my feelings or not."

And at that moment I was telling the truth. I didn't care. I hadn't told him for his benefit. I hadn't even been in a clear state of mind when I said it.

I said what I did because it was best for me. I wouldn't have been able to handle his presence otherwise. How I felt, despite what was happening right then, was better than I'd felt since knowing him. I didn't miss the weights I held. I didn't miss the feelings of a silent unrequited lover. Knowing that he knew made me freer in a strange sense; it was less of a hold over me.

It wasn't as if I was expecting a happily ever after.

"I don't need you to love me back," I murmured.

"You shouldn't want me to love you back," his quiet voice cautioned. I sat up straighter in my seat.

"And why's that?"

"You would live far, far longer if I didn't."

I forced my mind to come to a complete stop then. I didn't need to hear anything further. I turned to face the window and counted myself to sleep.

Now_ I didn't_ want him to love me, because I would never want to leave him if he did.

***Stockholm Syndrome*Stockholm Syndrome*Stockholm Syndrome***

The building we stood before was run down to say the least. The boarded windows, entrance and cracked concrete steps were sign enough.

We made it into France without a hitch. Edward provided both my passport and his at the checkpoint and we were a newly married couple vacationing in the south of France, seeing the world together. Two days passed as we road tripped to our destination. Two tense, awkward, polite filled days. When Edward dumped me in a motel for the night he didn't stay, claiming to stand vigilant outside for when someone came looking for me, then found sitting in the main room with two Styrofoam coffee cups come morning, phone in hand.

There'd only been one minor glimpse of our past relationship in a passing conversation.

"Would you like to stop at a local mart for anything?" he'd asked.

"No, I'm good."

"I'll stop anyway. Anything?"

"No."

"I'll pick you up something anyway. What do you want?"

"Nothing," I sighed, exasperated.

"Bella, please stop being stubborn and tell me what you need."

"I said I don't want anything!"

"So you're not on your period?"

I balked. "How did you-?"

"I can smell it."

"That's impossible. I just started this morning."

"I have a very good sense of smell."

I couldn't have been more humiliated. "Just get me some wipes then," I grumbled.

"It doesn't smell bad, Bella, I just know. You don't want anything?"

"Yes, please."

"Yes?" he pressed.

"You were married, Edward. You know what I need," I snapped.

"I want you to tell me."

I groaned. "Can't I just go get it myself."

"No."

"Pads, please."

"What kind?"

"The absorbent kind, I guess!"

"Anything else?"

"Seltzer and a cupcake?"

"Coke and a chocolate muffin it is."

I stared up at the building, at the pale blue siding and weeds rising up out of the ground to meet us as if they hadn't had visitors in years.

That was only a handful of hours ago and it gave me hope that all was not lost between us. I wanted to outstretch my hand to hold onto his but I felt slightly placated when his hand went to the small of my back, guiding me forward. We climbed the steps. The boarded door didn't perturb Edward as he pulled the three off like he put it there. It swung open with a lazy creak after removing the last slab of wood and I looked around the empty abandoned road, relieved that there were no other shifty structures around for anyone to hide in.

Edward's hand coaxed me forward again.

It was dark and the smell of mildew hit me hard enough and strong enough to make my stomach churn. As we moved further in, the dirt was unsettled by two very large rats scuttling past us and hugging the wall to our left. A shiver ran through me. My hand flew to Edward's abdomen as I curled inward toward him, a rogue and involuntary action, but he wasn't angry or upset as his hand rested on my hip reassuringly. The room was moderately sized and dirty, riddled with cobwebs and singing neglect.

We walked all the way to the back of the house and paused at a closet door in what should have been a kitchen. He opened it for me, and we ventured into the cramped space hand in hand. There was no helping his body pressing against mine. There was just a glance of light allowed to me as he shut the door behind us but the wicked darkening of his eyes on me made me exhale with need. He added insult to injury as he reached up and over me to touch something on top of the shelf behind me. I inhaled as he invaded my space, taking in his eye-rolling scent.

I still wanted him. Badly. Madly. Immediately.

"Stop," he commanded in the dark.

"I can't help it. I want you."

He groaned, and his head fell to my shoulder, face turning inward for his lips to just touch my neck. "No."

"Yes," I sighed, my hands reaching up to hold him to me, one in his hair, and the other beneath his shirt to feel the skin of his back. "Please?"

"Boundaries. We need boundaries."

"No. Touch me. I want you so much it hurts. I've wanted you for days."

His fingers clawed at my hips as he moved his lips across my throat. "Fucking hell, Swan. I said no."

"Kiss me," I breathed. "Kiss me, Edward."

I could have cried with triumph as his mouth sealed over mine harshly, possessively. He licked across the seam of my lips and dipped in as I sighed, his tongue exploring me in slow, leisurely licks. I threaded my fingers in his silky strands, using them to direct his mouth over mine. I hadn't realized how fiercely I craved him until now. The low, deep pulsing that lay within me since that night in our rock shelter exploded into a violent throb, made my hips shift forward and back again for friction between my thighs.

He pulled away with a rumble in his chest that vibrated against my own, returning to the crook of my neck to suck heavily on the skin there. I moaned with pleasure as his hips thrust savagely into my belly. He reached back to pull my hand to his front, over his crotch, holding it there and rocking into my palm as he licked and bit across my jaw to my ear lobe.

"Feel what you do to me, love? I've had this for two damned days now, too long. I need to be inside of you just as badly as you need me inside of you. I want to feel your precious cunt milk me relentlessly as I make you come over and over, again and again, endlessly."

I could have wept. I whimpered and my legs damn near gave out beneath me they buckled so hard. My head turned as I sought out his mouth again and he obliged me, kissing me so hard I was breathless. I felt my way over the hard edges of muscle on his stomach and down to the sharp ridge leading into his black jeans.

"Not here," he grounded out against my lips, biting down onto my lower one and pulling before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. "We're being watched."

"What?" That was enough to snap me straight.

He folded me into him and reached over again, stretching until he encountered whatever he was looking for and the wall behind my back gave way to a pitch black passage. He pressed a sober kiss to my forehead and skirted around me, not dropping his hold.

"Follow closely."

I could have been walking with my eyes closed and wouldn't have known the difference. I stumbled and tripped helplessly as we ventured down the downward slope. It was a long passageway that extended far out beneath the abandoned home up top and the depression was slightly less than subtle and covered in rocks. It didn't seem like a very far walk to where we were going but every time I fell into Edward he groaned. I wished I could say my breasts pressing into his back each time was done purposely but it wasn't, sadly. After maybe the ninth time he came to an abrupt halt, causing me to knock into him for number ten, and spun around to sweep me off my feet and carry me the rest of way bridal-style.

"In less than a quarter-hour I'm going to strip you bare and fuck you senseless," he promised darkly. "You want me? You'll have me. Hell's not so far off as it is. Might as well have fun on the way there."

I couldn't even put my mind to the last of his words. My insides curled in anticipation for what was very near to come. I felt giddy, like an alcoholic locked in a room full of the finest wines. I certainly felt like an alcoholic with this man; I couldn't help myself. I nipped and tasted at his throat as he carried me, delighting in the deep noises he emitted.

"I hope you're not too fond of walking."

"Back at you."

He sighed, frustrated now. "I had every intention of ignoring you, you know," he admitted, unashamed.

"I know," I replied.

"Matters are never as simple as they should be with you."

"I'm starting to realize that." I bit down on his ear lobe as he had done to me. "I don't care though."

"Damn it all, we're almost there. Put your arms around me."

He glided forward faster now, and if he was running I wouldn't have been able to tell as he barely jostled me in his long strides. I was paying just enough attention to register the slight pressure building in my ears as we descended further down, at the misting of perspiration covering both mine and Edward's skin. Archaeology adapted me to such things though so it wasn't uncomfortable, but nostalgic.

It was only another minute or two of blackness before a dim yellow light crawled over us. It was blinding as we approached it. Edward rounded a sharp corner when we came up to the little lamp and knocked his shoulder into the wall as he did, causing a slab of faded rock to jut forward. His foot hooked around the lip before sliding it open.

It was as if we stepped into someone's mansion, I noted, appreciating the cool central air.

I didn't have time to look around as Edward pulled my face down to his in another searing kiss. I was dizzy and disoriented and positively on fire as he navigated us around. We strode through a large square that branched into a number of different corridors and I was briefly reminded of Volterra. The interior was similar to Volterra's as well, with its clean white tiles and marble arches.

We reached the center and a statuesque woman literally stepped out of the shadows. I would have missed her all together had she not come to us.

"Edward," she purred in a sultry alto. "Haven't seen your gorgeous face around here in a while. And with a new playmate, to boot."

"Not now," he growled, completely disregarding her presence, breezing past her to his destination.

We flew up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway until we reached a room at the very end. He bust the door open and set me down inside, then went back to close and secure it.

He should have been panting, maybe even slightly winded by how fast and far he had moved whilst carrying me but he stood tall, an imposing, impeccable force as he looked me over with a raw hunger that made my toes curl.

The silence that hung between us lasted only a few seconds before the sounds of our bodies clashing wrung in the air as we closed the distance between us. We were a storm of tongues, teeth, moans, grunts and flying clothing as he backed me further into the room.

I was topless before my naked back encountered the mantle of a fireplace. His hands were cradling my skull to him, fingers in my hair as he stroked the inside of my mouth with his tongue. I was impossibly turned on, my nipples erect and highly sensitive as they brushed against the fabric of Edward's silk shirt. I whimpered as he pulled one between his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes, sweetheart," he murmured appreciatively. "Let me hear you. Fuck, Swan. You are so beautiful, love. Mesmerizing. Stand over there for me. Strip…slowly. I need to see you."

My breaths left me in puffs as I slid the sweat pants down my legs, and I was just a tiny bit disappointed that I hadn't worn underwear because the way Edward was watching me made me want to disrobe all day long.

"Stay there," he ordered, eyes wild as he took me in. "Don't move. Fucking breathtaking. Look how hard I am for you, _ma __belle_. See how much I want you."

I inhaled sharply as he pulled his jeans down his hips, his erection springing free and bobbing against his stomach. I licked my lips staring at the thick porcelain column of flesh, marveling that it had even fit inside of me the first time. He stripped until he mirrored how I stood-absolutely bare. Once again, I was awestruck at how immaculate he was. Godlike in every way. I eyed him as if he were the cure to every disease known to man, as if I would expire if I didn't have him, and it almost felt like he saw me the same way.

"Touch yourself for me, Bella. Show me how to please you."

"You know how to please me." I groaned as I stroked over the mound between my legs anyway.

"Show me what you want, _bellissima __angioletto_," he said hotly, "where you want it."

Wanton. That was the only word to describe it. I was dirty and blissfully libertine as I pinched my nipples roughly and rubbed my fingers over my wet apex for the man before me. His gaze was a presence all its own, raking down my body in tangible circuits. So overwhelmed, I almost brought myself to climax with my meager touch. I hugged an arm around myself and extended my hand to him.

"I want you. Take me, please."

He nodded solemnly and pulled me into him, bending me backward and lifting my legs over his hips as he possessed me with another lush kiss, slower this time, more fierce as he bypassed the bed to lay me over the seat of the couch, catching our combined weight with an outstretched hand. The leather was cool on my skin and in such contrast to his body heat as he blanketed me.

I sprawled beneath him, breathless and heaving, while he slid to his knees and positioned my lower half over his mouth with rough hands, thrusting his tongue into my wet cleft.

Euphoria.

His oral skills were flawless; he knew just how to kiss me and how much pressure to use for me to unwind for him. He caressed my clit with the pad of his thumb and lathed at my entrance in long licks, his scorching gaze holding mine, and I was loving how intensely intimate this felt. Loved it even more as he levered himself over me to shove his cock into me. I gasped at his pelvis rubbing against mine and reveled in the feel of being stretched just to the point of pain.

He leaned forward to move his lips against mine, lifted my leg up onto his shoulder, then began pounding into me with unhurried strokes.

"Yes," I moaned, raking my nails down his back. He fit so perfectly, as if my body was made to hold him. "Fuck, Edward."

"Bella." His mouth covered mine. He fisted my hair about his wrist to hold me down and plunged harder and deeper, bumping into my clit with every upward thrust of his hips against me. I cried helplessly as I began to quiver around his turgid flesh.

"Don't come," he growled authoritatively in my ear, biting down on the lobe. "Don't you dare come. Hold it." He pushed his hands beneath me and flattened my breasts against him as he lifted me.

He pulled me up, then sat down with me straddling his hips. Our bodies were slick and slippery with sweat, making his sliding into me again effortlessly. He smoothed my matted hair from my face and licked across my chest, taking my breasts into his palms and kneading them.

"Ride me, love," he whispered into my neck, pinching my oversensitive buds with his fingers. "Fuck me, sweetheart."

I splayed my hands out on his shoulders and held on for leverage as I lifted myself with a slow rock of my hips. He was hard as steel and still growing as I undulated my hips over him, his crude grip on my ass and soft growling in my ear laced with gentle words of admiration and encouragement, spurring me on. He urged me closer to take a hardened tip in his hot mouth and I mewled with pleasure, the stimulation setting my body ablaze and arrowing straight to my core.

I lifted with the clenching of my thighs, closing my eyes and focusing on the way he felt as he slid out; then whimpering and throwing my head back at how he stretched me sliding back in.

"There you go, sweetheart," he praised, tongue flitting to lathe attention to my other nipple. "Come for me now, love. Milk my cock while you ride me."

My inner muscles locked down on him automatically and I lost it. I buried my face in his hair as he drove into me with powerful, commanding thrusts and I thrashed on top of him senselessly when he angled the thick crown of his shaft to push into just the right spot.

"Edward," I sobbed. "Right there…right there."

"Perfection." His hand gripped the back of my neck as he forced me to watch him make love to me. I gave into it. Everything in my tightened, my pulse racing in my ears as my orgasm rolled over me, choking me into silent ecstasy. He pumped upward thrice more before stilling, groaning my name into my damp skin as he spurt hotly into my core, his arms iron braces as he held me to him.

He pulled us down into the couch, settling me on top of his chest and stroking my hair to the ends while pressing his lips to my forehead.

I couldn't hold onto consciousness if I tried, and as I went off to complete and utter rapture I took Edward's reverent, "Thank you," with me.

* * *

**Author's Note:** How's that for celebration? I am having _entirely _too much fun with these two for this to almost be over :(

Until next time!


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's Note: **Hey, y'all. Busy as a beaver but here's this chapter for you. I was planning to release this with a companion chapter (read: EPOV) but I don't want to make you all wait so here it is! unedited so please forgive the typos!

By the by, how much sex is too much sex when it's happy sex? ;)

* * *

Chapter 31: Anxious

This was the exact thing I'd been missing those few days ago to make me feel complete.

A warm downy blanket to cover my naked body, a thick pillow beneath my head, Edward's fingers traipsing up and down my side; the tickle of his hair on my cheek as he peppered kisses over my exposed shoulder, and his unflagging erection pushing into my back.

I sighed in nothing less than content. If I could just capture this moment for all of time and stay here forever more I would be the happiest woman alive.

"I know you're awake," he murmured against my skin. "Stop pretending."

I lifted my head sluggishly to catch his eye and was almost knocked breathless. He was so beautiful this way—wrapped around me beneath the blanket, his head lying on my back as his eyes sparkled with playful mischief. There was a bit of scruff on his face that scratched against my back and it made him look dangerously sexy. My heart tugged in an almost uncomfortable thump, made my chest itch and ache.

"Hi," I breathed.

"Hey. Are you alright?"

I nodded with a ball in my throat.

"How was your nap?" he asked, his hand reaching over me to move my hair back in that tender gesture I was only just getting used to.

"Good. Yours?"

"I didn't sleep - I was watching you."

I smiled and nudged my shoulder into his chest. His mouth turned upward in a grin and he held my chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes flicking back and forth between my own.

"May I?" he inquired softly, and at my small yes he pushed his lips against mine in a slow, heart wrenchingly gentle kiss. I sighed into his mouth, not caring whether I had morning breath or not, and his tongue slipped between my lips, tasting any and everything in its reach.

The hand at my chin slipped over my throat to briefly flirt with my breasts, testing the weight of either one and teasing the nipple before falling between my legs to grip my sex.

I gasped and he shushed me, dipping two fingers into my wanting cleft and pumping as his thumb circled the button of nerves at my apex. I moaned and circled my hips to meet the swirling and stroking of the two digits inside of me. Edward watched me with a dark gaze, telling me how beautiful I was, how he loved the squeeze of my sex on him, and just before I gave myself over to my climax he lifted my leg up just a tad to slide inside of me. I bowed in his hold, pushing my behind into his hips as he dragged in and out of me with agonizing deliberateness, angling just the right way, saying just the right things, touching with just the right pressures.

I came with a groan, jerking as I cupped my breasts in my hands, rolling the pebbled flesh between my fingers to prolong and strengthen my high. Edward's hold on me tightened as he powered into me faster, rushing for his own release. I mimicked his sweet words to me across his lips, holding his hand over my breasts and gripping him with my sensitive tissues, urging him on. He ravaged my mouth as he peaked, still as stone as he filled me with his arousal. Not a handful of minutes passed before he was lifting me up and carrying me to the bed for round 3.

The dreaded "L" word hung temptingly in front of me again but I brushed it aside, focusing everything on the man hell bent on driving me insane.

***Stockholm Syndrome*Stockholm Syndrome*Stockholm Syndrome***

"Congratulations, Mrs. Masen. I'm now hard for the sixth time today."

"Shut up," I smiled.

"You look ravishing," he grinned, eyebrows bouncing.

"You look damn fine yourself, Mr. Masen."

"Mm. Remind me to thank Carmen for your dress."

"Nice, isn't it?"

"I'm dying to take it off of you. Again."

"So insatiable, Mr. Masen," I clucked, smoothing out the lapels of his white dress shirt and pecking his mouth chastely.

He banded an arm around my waist and pulled me into a dip, taking a kiss of his own and deepening it impossibly. I was breathing in gulps as he let me up, smirking cockily.

"It takes two, Mrs. Masen."

We'd broken the rules; we crossed our boundaries, and our relationship had never been as deceptively normal as it was currently. Edward Anthony Masen finally said, "Fuck it," and we bloomed together. The gift-horse with my name on it was sitting on my mantel piece, showered with flowers and scented oils.

As I wrapped myself around his extended arm my head spun thinking of how totally a handful of days could make a difference. We exited our tiny apartment and headed straight for the main square, where Carmen waited patiently for us to do something about the "leak of sexual frustration," which had been Edward's immediate cue to abandon my instruction and seduce me back into our rooms.

I'd been soaking up the quality time I had with Edward and enjoying the most recent sense of normalcy I'd had in months. The calm period didn't last long enough for me, and after today we would be thrown back into the jaws of danger. Marseille was only a few hours away from Underground Italy, a base of sorts for Volterra's French branch across Europe, and after a few days of prep for the short mission ahead we were to attend a business retreat in the south. I had no place there, so Miss. Carmen created a place for me so that the persons in attendance needed a translator. I was extremely skeptical that any minion of Aro's would take me in but apparently Carmen owed Edward a life debt. I made a personal decision not to ask questions about that. It was none of my business and I didn't want to be any further buried in my hole then I already was.

I didn't trust Carmen at all. For one, she was a relative of Tanya's, and that was reason enough to put a wide berth between us. I saw the familiarity in her features before she'd had to tell me. Although she was nice and lighthearted enough to embrace me and kiss my cheek every morning I kept her at arms' length.

"Oh, you're done are you?" Carmen turned in her seat at our approach to raise a perfectly arched eyebrow at us. "Much faster than yesterday, I suppose. Edward you're losing your touch."

"You are the one who sent us away, Carmen. The last thing I need to hear is you reprimanding me."

"_Zitto_," she hissed waving at him. "Come, Bella. Let me look at you."

I stepped forward to take her hand and she spun me around as she scrutinized my gown, her kind spice brown eyes narrowing into critical slits. I bent at the waist for her, throwing a wink at Edward who stood stiff behind us, and stretched when she told me to. She felt over the intricately laced sheer eggplant sleeves, adjusting them, then followed the shape of my body in the dress, tugging the byzantium colored Matelassé dress up at my hips a touch so it clung an inch above my knees.

"Beautiful," she said admiring her handiwork. "Now all that remains to think about is pantyhose or no pantyhose."

"Stockings the color of the sleeves," Edward retorted confidently, pulling up a chair for himself and crossing his legs at the ankle, arms behind his head. My eyes immediately targeted the triceps flexing beneath his jacket sleeves. "Purple heels will be too much so give her one of those tiny purses in yellow and shoes to match."

Carmen's narrowed eyes widened slowly as she put the ensemble together in her head. "That could definitely work. _BREE_!"

The small girl who couldn't have been older than 17 appeared silently, shaking under her mentor's sharp orders before leaving just as silently to fill her task. She was Carmen's shadow, always behind her, attached to her, but not allowed to participate in anything that wasn't dictated to her. I almost felt bad for her.

"Are we done here?"

"Relax, Edward. You can fuck your lady friend after I have everything together. I've given you many hours out of my time to her already; one more won't kill you."

"You've been very kind these past few days, Carmen," I interjected, ignoring the rib. "Thank you."

"It was a pleasure." She squeezed the hand she still held. "You were a very easy student to teach; you made it easy for me."

"Teach? She already knew all of those languages, crazy. Stop kissing your own ass."

"_Zitto_, Edward!"

Carmen and Edward had a very interesting relationship. Opposite from how he treated Tanya but not so dissimilar to his attitude towards me. There was obviously some form of camaraderie between them if they could tease each other like they did. It was almost fascinating seeing Edward interact with other people. Long ago Emmett confessed that he, Jasper and Edward were friends. I wondered how he interacted with them, what they did during downtime together, what they talked about.

I rubbed at the pang in my chest as Edward continued to bust Carmen's chops. I missed Emmett and Jasper dearly; Carlisle, too. I intentionally kept those three far out my mind because with the thought of them came the worry for my girls. I needed to know that they were safe, that they managed to weasel out of Aro's psychotic hold before he noticed my betrayal. They were insurance after all. My contract was null and void even before I left. My escaping from Volterra was like spitting in Aro's face and stomping his toe—it undoubtedly pissed him off.

Many times after we'd made love Edward assured me that he would handle Aro, that after I was safely back where I belonged I would never have to fear for my life again, and that my friends would be back in Forks to greet me.

It was too much to think that they'd made it back before me. The thought brought me too much joy, gave me a jubilation that would crush my soul if I were to find out that I'd been lied to. I trusted Edward implicitly but he'd lied to me too many times. I just couldn't hear him without batting a lash now.

"...I'll show you wear to put your Gucci jackets, _cazzone_. Come, Bella. It's time for your carbs."

On top of sharpening my language flexibility Carmen was stuffing food down my throat, restoring my body back to how it used to be. I was to eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it. I worked off excess with sex. I was partial to the idea up until Carmen threatened to forcibly inject me with hormones guaranteed to make me eat, and I knew she was serious when she had Bree take my BMI.

But there was no doubting that I looked at least fifty-percent more healthy than I did before coming to Underground Italy on her regimen. My cheeks had flesh and color again, my freshly cut hair a healthy sheen and marvelously unburnt, the purple wells beneath my eyes had faded and my hips were reappearing, much to Edward's favor. I could almost recognize Isabella Swan in my reflection now. Little by little, day by day, the hope that maybe I could have my old life back grew stronger, more vibrant. My fate lay on the turnout of Edward's business retreat in the South of France though. Edward would do his part so I had to do mine. I practiced languages religiously, often slipping into one other than my mother tongue during dinner with The Square, the monotone tenants of Underground Italy. My palm hit my forehead each time. What would happen if I made a mistake in Marseilles There was no way in hell I would jeopardize this for myself. I didn't have the luxury of fucking up this time around. This was the most important act of my life. When the curtains came up it was show time...

"Bella."

I gripped my fork tighter between my fingers and looked up into Edward's calm face. His tight eyes betrayed his stony features. I would have proffered a small smile to assure him I was okay but he would know I was lying.

"I'm fine," I would have mouthed.

"You're not," he would have deduced, and then we would break out into a squabble during dinner.

Instead, because we knew each other too well at this point, Edward excused us from the dining hall to return us to our rooms, locking the door and effectively trapping us in our own little cocoon.

He nodded at me from across the room. "How comfortable is that? Be honest."

"Very," I replied, smoothing the material of my dress over my stomach and clearing my throat. "I love this."

"She made it from scratch for you." He came closer.

"Yes. I'm grateful."

"You look lovely," he murmured. He took my chin in his grip and lifted my head, ducking his own to skim his lips across mine and kiss my jaw.

I melted.

"Thank you. I like your suit, too."

"I have a million of them. They're nothing special."

"You look good in all of them," I breathed shakily. His hands were against the back of my thighs, dragging the hem of my dress up agonizingly slow as he bent to kiss my neck and shoulder.

"Mm. Which one is your favorite?"

His long fingers wrapped around my thighs to play with the seam of my sex, petting the sensitive skin as I panted in his ear, my hands tangled in his hair.

"This one," I answered.

"Why?"

"Because I helped you put it on."

"And I would be honored if you helped me take it off," he purred seductively.

I groaned and he pulled me in for a lazy, lush kiss, stroking the length of my tongue with his. I clung to him as he lifted me into his arms and held me up against the wall.

"We've yet to christen the walls, you know."

I laughed. "No, just this one."

"Right, right. The places tend to blur into one when you're under me."

"Here then?"

"Mm. I imagine Carmen will piss acid if we don't return for the rest of dinner. Ah, ah. Leave the dress on. No underwear? How libertine of you, Mrs. Masen."

I gasped my breaths, circling my hips over the fingers now plunged within me, brushing the soft canal with shallow strokes.

"Edward, please."

"Shh. You're not wet enough for me yet, love. Let me take care of you."

I was going to go crazy, insane with the touch of Edward's long fingers, and when he dropped to his knees with my legs around his shoulders, face buried where I needed him the most, I resigned myself to the exquisite madness. His tongue, the sensual velvet lash that it was, parted my folds and flicked about my wet heat, dipping and retreating into my entrance. One hand held my hip immobile as I thrashed about his beautiful face and the other grazed my clit over and over in tight, slow circles that contrasted with his hurried licks. It was too good, too swift. I wanted to draw out this moment longer, as long as I could but it was too much. My body shook as I quickened.

"_No_!"

I screamed as my orgasm hit me, but he studiously ignored my cry, continuing to ravish my sensitive flesh as the waves rolled on and on. I was slack as Edward rose to a standing position and wrapped my legs around his waist, but a moan crawled up my throat as he slowly sheathed himself within me.

His low groan and steady string of praiseful curses reignited my arousal. I enveloped him in the swath of my limbs and braided my fingers into his silky mop as I pushed off of the wall to meet his slow thrusts. The friction had me seeing stars behind my lids, made my toes curl. I tugged at the hair in my hand to crash my mouth over Edward's, tasting my essence on his lips and tongue.

"So tight, Isabella," he sighed against my mouth. "Fucking magical. Do you know how much I love this luscious cunt of yours, Isabella? Taste it. Taste you. Taste yourself, love."

He lunged his hips forward so there was nothing between us and ground against me, then withdrew to the tip, holding two coated fingers to my swollen lips. He trailed his digits over my bottom lip and I obediently parted for him, returning his hot gaze. I rolled my tongue over the pad of his fingers and sucked, earning a throaty groan. Eventually he slid all the way out as he watched me but my performance was punctuated by my sharp cry as he slammed back in, the pain blending with the delicious sense of fullness. He pulled his fingers from my mouth and melded his hands to the shape of my ass as he pummeled into me, his grunts drowned out by my squeals of pleasure.

My arms tightened around his neck as he fucked me, my legs locking up around him as his thrusts became fiercer, my body jolting each time his pelvis hit mine. The slapping of flesh on flesh grew louder, and my voice climbed ever higher as the swollen head of his shaft kneaded the walls of my vagina, stretching me to accommodate every delectable inch of his cock like a personal glove. I jerked still at the undeniable ecstasy, gripping a chunk of his hair in my fist as I began to contract around his member, bliss welling up and flooding my body as my arousal seeped on to his pelvis and down his leg.

He set a punishing rhythm as he reached for his own release, and I held on to him tightly as he buried himself to the hilt and groaned my name into my neck when his orgasm hit him as powerfully as mine had. I stroked his lovely strands from scalp to ends as we came down together, and he found my mouth for a passionate kiss to conclude the evening tryst.

My weight should have been too much for him as he carried me to the en suite bathroom and sat me on the counter but he didn't complain. Wetting a wash cloth Edward washed my thighs with a gentle touch, then himself before carrying me to the bed and lying beside me, arm behind his head as I curled into his side.

His quiet voice pulled me out of the fog of slumber.

"Stop worrying, love. I told you I'd take care of everything."

I blinked. "You can't just tell me not to worry when I have every right to. Yes, I'm worried."

He didn't say anything further but pulled me tighter against him. I smoothed my fingertips down the rigid plane of his stomach.

"I don't want to mess this up," I admitted in a small voice.

"You won't. There's so little for you to screw up I have a hard time imagining that you will. All you need to do is translate and keep me at a distance. We'll be perfectly fine."

"Why can't I be around you, again?"

"Why do you need to be around me?"

"I'm surrounded by potentially dangerous strangers-of course I want to be by you."

"After we leave here I'm stripping you of your title as my wife. We don't know each other after tonight."

He'd said it gently, not unkind, and yet it was like a slap across the face. It wasn't his fault - I'd just gotten attached to the sentiment. I needed to get over myself. Just a few more days, my subconscious soothed. In a few days we can drop this beautiful man like the bad habit he is.

I clasped his suit jacket in my hand in spite of my thoughts. Now...letting go was the one thing I did not want to do. Everything besides leaving Edward sounded like perfection to me but the law of equivalent exchange was in play, and there was no other way around it. I sighed.

"Okay," I acquiesced.

"I won't be waking up with you tomorrow morning, though I've enjoyed doing so recently. By the time you're up I'll already be in Marseille, holding down my end. Don't rush; take your time before leaving. Carmen will have a driver take you there but anytime you're ready to leave is fine. All you need to do for me-for you-is translate when needed. Things will go smoothly, and I promise to have you returned to your backwater town in a few days. You don't need to worry about a thing."

I continued to worry.

His palm lifted my cheek and his mouth hovered a hairsbreadth away from mine. The sensual scent of his breath washed over me, quelling the tight ball in the pit of my stomach.

"Hey. Relax. We've done this before."

"No, we've done something like this before. I've never been a good liar, Edward. They'll see right through me. I could mess up so bad..."

"Hey, hey. I said relax. Stop. Breathe. There you go. And you were doing so good; you haven't had an attack in more than a week."

"Edward..."

"You'll be fine. I won't be avoiding you altogether, sweetheart; I just can't know you off the bat. My colleagues are a set of people who don't trust anyone. I hired you, but that's the extent of our relationship. You're a professional woman so this won't be hard. Treat me like your boss," he simplified.

"Okay. I can do that."

"As long as you can refrain from looking at me like you're doing right now," he murmured kissing the side of my mouth, "we should be just fine."

My shoulders fell with the consistency of Jell-O. "It's not really something I can control."

"Oh, you can. I simply have to pull it out of you."

I looked up into his dark gaze, thrown by the amount of faith he had in me. Assembling the little strength I still had I put my hand to Edward's chest, right above his heart, and pushed so I was on top of him. My heart struck havoc against my ribcage, trying to pound its way out of me, and its erratic beating and my lightly whistled breaths accompanied the myriad of overpowering emotions that flooded me. It was painful now, because I knew the source of such discord was beneath me at this very moment, but in a few days' time would be forevermore out of my reach. I received another angry thump at the thought. I wanted my life back. I wanted to be free of this secret world of death and lies. But I wanted Edward as well. The two stood at such contentions it was impossible to have both, and this made me want to weep. I deserved a happily ever after, too.

"I love you," I whispered, and as a fat drop of salt water rolled down my cheek he swiped it with his thumb.

"I know," he said.

"I love you."

"I know."

"I don't want to lose you now."

"I know."

"I'm scared, Edward."

"Don't be. Hush, belle. Rest for a while."

I wiped the tears from my face across his black silk shirt, the juvenile notion that I was marking what was mine crossing my mind. I'd been broken down too many times already in no time at all. I didn't have what it took to lose anymore.

I wondered how much more a broken soul could take.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Next chapter, the much awaited EPOV! Until next time!


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's Note: **Ladies and gents, prepare your feels.

* * *

Chapter 32: Uncharacteristic

*~*E*~*

Only noon and I could already really use a drink.

The wind surrounding the little niche Chateau Twilight nested in was cool and salty, carrying the fragrant mist of the ocean with it. I stepped off of the wooden porch and ambled down the beaten dirt path to walk the short distance to the wall of jagged rocks that stood above the sea. Not a ship in sight, not another town for miles; this was the perfect location for an anonymous massacre.

I reached into my breast pocket, found my carton of Gitanes, and lit myself a cigarette, inhaling with bitter pleasure. I deserved it.

I'd been taking it easy for too long, hadn't had enough exercise or training in months to be prepared for this job but here I was, standing in the lion's den with red meat dangling from my neck. I shouldn't be here; I wouldn't be anywhere near here if I at all cared for my life.

Too bad I wasn't here for me.

Aro had this mission set aside for me for two months now, constantly having to reschedule to accommodate me, pissing down my throat each time, too. Tough shit. If he wanted this bad enough he could have shown up himself but he was too much of a coward, too soft to play with the big kids. He could have easily hired someone else to do the job and had me killed for wasting his time but, again, too soft. I was the only person he trusted with this task, the only one he knew capable of handling this. Not the brightest bulb in the box, I'd say, because I wasn't here for him.

I took a long drag at the stick in my hand and closed my eyes as the wind curled my plume of smoke back at me.

Never in all my 27 years would I have considered that I would be risking my life to save a girl - an impressionable American one, at that. A tactless, mouthy, stubborn American girl...who knew exactly how to drive me up the nearest wall and hang me there by the balls.

Yes, this was for her. I owed her this, and much more. Scum as I was though, this was all I could offer her: freedom. Of Aro, of all this darkness, of me. I owed her this, and much more, but damned if I could give it to her.

I lowered my head to watch the foam of the water cling to the rocks.

The time to move was now, and I couldn't help but wonder if I was ready, yet I'd never been one to doubt myself. Everything I did had a greater purpose, every step taken was toward something, but where was I headed now? I scowled at my feet, acknowledging my newfound weakness and standing aside to let it take its place beside me, willing my tense muscles to relax as the shadow of it threaded its familiar fingers with mine. Without it, I would be off, missing the part of me that wasn't all about self-preservation and selfishness. It was me and it now, coexisting. We needed each other, the reasons completely opposite and totally singular at once.

The soft electronic hum of the front gate drifted to the back of the chateau and my perfectly honed mask was back in place, the shadow's fingers giving one light squeeze before disappearing. I tossed my cigarette into the ruthless sea below and headed back up to the building, leaving everyone but Edward Anthony there at the sea's edge.

It was almost comical how my co-workers viewed the woman they warily shook hands with - the outsider. We were a relatively small group: Madame Victoria, Signor Santiago whenever he decided to grace us with his presence, Lady Charlotte, the Baron Royce and his Baroness Rebecca, Felix and Amun, the entourage that they each brought with them...and then myself and our delectable translator, Miss. Isabella Swan.

She was turned away from me at the moment, and as she walked down the line greeting and exchanging false pleasantries with the chateau's occupants I admired her smooth naked back in the dress that I personally selected for her, and after fucking her against the walk-in closet's wall no less.

She was beautiful and refined in nude make up and her hair tied up into an elegant twist. I eyed the short hem of her dress and flexed my fingers as it rose upward with her brief steps. Her heels were the same shade of her mouth, and the gentle click of them against the hardwood floors was making me harder than was healthy.

"...sorry to be of inconvenience."

A whip snapped at my attention and I was back behind my mask, returned to the room. My diversion was currently being towered over by Felix as they spoke amongst themselves, the nosy Baron overshadowing them, and I resisted the terrible urge to walk up behind her and lay a possessive hand on her hip. Both Felix and the white haired Baron had a look of pure hunger and malice in their eyes, focused on the tiny imp before them.

"Inconvenience?" her soft voice inquired. "You don't need me?" I was mildly surprised by her composure. I knew her well enough to notice when she felt a sense of panic. The emotion charged the air between us, but it was just a brief kindling now, flaring quickly and dying within the same beat. She stared up at him with steady determination that made something dead within me stutter.

"We are a much smaller group than originally anticipated and I think we should be able to manage without outside help."

They were speaking English. Isabella cast a swift glance to the Baron over her shoulder and promptly switched to French.

"If you wish, monsieur, but I'm sure I could be quite useful. I have nothing else planned for the next few days and I would be more than happy to stay."

"If you've nothing planned then you should be able to return to Paris and enjoy a restful vacation," he said kindly, awkwardly.

"My tiny apartment is hardly the place for a vacation," she chuckled, and the blood rushed down my trousers in an almost autonomous response.

Felix hesitated; show that he was unused to argumentative women in his stiff features. He nodded.

"Very well, then. I suppose you could be of value to us. It would be a great shame on my part to send you home after coming all this way."

"It was a long trip," she agreed. "I'm famished."

His smile was slight. "I will see to it dinner is prepared right away then. In the meantime, I'll have the servants take your bags while you get more acquainted with the guests you will be translating for. It shouldn't be too onerous a task as we are a very professional bunch, and in your downtime you have a beautiful setting to roam when it suits you. And of course the presence of such a stunning young woman can only make our work go more smoothly."

It came to no surprise to me that the usual French good manners were marginally askew on Felix, and Isabella had her hands in front of her, moving one over the other in a methodical motion as if washing her hands.

"You're too kind, monsieur," she murmured, so obviously uncomfortable I cringed inwardly myself.

They spoke quietly for a moment more then turned toward the arch of the parlor I stood in. I managed to keep myself as sub-rosa as was possible, more than 20 feet away from the popular guest and her host, sipping my black coffee and seemingly gazing out the window.

The gentle knock of Isabella's heels on the floor signaled their approach. Again, the blood was flooding south too quickly for my liking. I swigged a drink from my cup.

The brief hesitation of her step made me look up, and as our eyes met a temporary veil fell over the room so we were the only two there.

Ah, I could wax lyrically about her chocolate tinted depths for days with no end in sight and still pay homage to their novelty. Big and wide and opulent, honest and bright and full of hushed secrets, they stared back at me warmly, longingly. An unnecessary pleasure as it was I wanted her beneath me once more, needed to feel her squeeze me with an intimate embrace as she crooned my name in my ear ... I wanted to hear her tell me she loved me just once more in that breathy tone that drove me towards my own climax.

I wanted it more than I needed oxygen in my lungs, than air to breathe.

I could listen to those words from her for a long time and never tire of it.

I winced as the whip cracked again and this time I let it, welcomed it. I was treading dangerous waters. Hell, I'd been on rocky terrain the moment I first kissed her. I knew she'd be trouble even then, forever ago as that was. And she just kept proving me right, over and over, day by day. Gods, how tiring she could be, and still is...

But why was there so much peace in her exhaustion? Why did I feel more...whole...knowing that I could look forward to partaking in that pleasant weariness the next day? These alien feelings that were welling up within me made me tense and edgy.

It'd been too long since I had the proper training and my mental state was suffering from it. I needed to focus, damn her, but here she was looking at me exactly how I told her not to.

"There you are Anthony. I hadn't seen you come in. How was your smoke?"

I was suddenly intensely angry at the coffee in my cup. It was the concentration and root of all my confusion and fuck ups at this moment.

I didn't glance back up to Felix. "Bitter."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Our guest has arrived. I believe you two have already met but—"

"Not in person," I intoned, pushing off of the wall to bypass the hulk and stand over the true source of my problems, my switch flipping automatically.

This was where I began to despise my job, though I never had a day before this one. Charming, suave, seductive - that's what I was to women: a predator on the prowl. It did not matter that playing this part with the woman who knew me better than the rest made me feel wooden and hollow; this was what I was known for, my shtick, how others identified me.

It was too much to hope that she would see through this. I played my role very well, alien feelings be damned, and like every other woman on my dossier she would fall for it, believe in what she saw.

She was a stranger to me now in every sense of the word, and that was a lie my body believed outright.

I raised her delicate hand to my mouth to kiss her knuckles and I was hard as steel when she exhaled shakily.

"It's nice to formally meet you, Miss. Swan," I murmured against her skin.

Damn her.

She responded with a nod but nothing more; just looked up at me with hooded eyes and her lip between her teeth.

I released her hand and swigged at my coffee, needing something to ground me. I watched her over the rim of my cup.

"How was your trip?" I asked.

"Long," she breathed, and I had to have her. Immediately.

"You look tired," I noted. I swallowed, hoping to even out the sudden huskiness in my voice. I was in dire need of a cigarette.

"Yes."

"You should rest after meeting the other guests. Aside from dinner we won't need you today, right Felix?" I continued after his hesitant nod. "Right then. Please, enjoy yourself, and we'll send for you at supper. Miss. Swan."

I lifted her hand to my mouth again and instead of standing immobile she half-assed a curtsy, I turned away and head out the back door just as Felix showed her the rest of the parlor room, biting back a smile while I flicked violently at my lighter for a smoke.

I leaned back in my chair, balancing it on one leg with my eyes closed as I listened to the soft classical score that crooned from the in-wall stereos. It was a sweet piece, light and flying, setting a calm, laid-back mood for the dining hall. The room was richly decorated in muted brown and gold paneling, the floors a mix of soft and dark grays. One extravagant, ritzy painting decorated a single wall of the four-walled hall and served as the centerpiece. A quiet chatter surrounded the table as the chateau's occupants made conversation I had no interest in participating in. I hummed along to the music to tune them all out.

You would never guess we were a table of cold-blooded murderers.

A simple sound broke through the zone I'd set up: heels; size 7, to be exact, although the wearer would debate with her life she was a 6. I opened my eyes, waiting for her.

Bella's slender body appeared around the corner of the arced door, her hands in front of her, fingers twisting around and around each other. All conversation stopped immediately.

She blushed to the roots, muttered an apology, and hurried to the only empty seat at the table: the one opposite me. Felix glowered.

"We wondered where you were, Mademoiselle Swan," he said. "It is half past seven already."

"Pardonnez-moi; I had trouble finding my way."

"No kidding," I butted in. "Next time I'll be happy to show you the way."

Bella's eyes widened a bit, and just as she was about to tell me that was unnecessary her gaze followed the way of her ears as they attuned themselves to the torrent of Italian that Signor Santiago was spewing, who was yet to meet her.

"What is she doing here?" he demanded. "Was it not supposed to be that imbecilic Australian woman here in this one's stead? How do we know we can trust this one? She may not be as stupid as the other. She could ruin everything. Get rid of her, Felix."

Felix toned disapprovingly in English, "Santiago, it's rude to speak in a language foreign to those who don't understand it." He glanced at Bella. "You don't speak Italian do you, Mademoiselle Swan?"

She lied, and the swelling of pride I felt for my girl was cracking through my performance. She was visibly nervous, whether because of the presence of so many people or Felix or Signor Santiago I was unsure, but she kept her head held high. "Only English and French," she said with an apologetic smile.

Santiago was not mollified. "She's a danger to us and I'm sure I am not alone in my sentiments. Madame Victoria, Monsieur Anthony, wouldn't you agree this woman should be sent away?" He was still speaking Italian; Bella kept her face blank.

_You're just not giving up are you, you dying old bastard?_

"Oh, stop your babbling, Richard. Shut up and enjoy the party." Victoria raised her colorful glass to her rouge red lips and regarded Isabella over the rim, her striking hazel eyes logging every visible inch of the girl.

It was a rare, freezing day in hell when Victoria and I could agree on something.

"Oh, I think she should stay," I said lazily, tracing the stem of my own willowy flute. "She's much too pretty to send away. And look at her. The wheel probably spins in this one but the hamster is dead—she'd more than likely be incapable of reading between the lines with us. Leave her alone." I had perfect Italian that was only slightly tinged with a French accent because that was what my cover required, much like how Victoria's had subtle hints of German.

I chanced a look up at my girl to see that her face faultlessly void of anything that the others could pick up. For me though, I saw the fire brimming from her eyes, that glorious sight where they appeared to be sparkling with tears when there wasn't a drop of moisture in them, staring me down squarely but not wickedly.

She wanted to throttle me.

_Put the claws away, kitten._

"Of course _you _would vouch for her, Anthony, you hired her," Santiago huffed.

My gaze shot to his. "Is that supposed to imply something?"

His eyes widened and he backed down immediately, clearing his throat and sipping from his glass. "I still say she's a danger to us all."

"Well you don't need to say it again," Baron Royce spoke up. "Welcome to Chateau Twilight, Mademoiselle Swan," he said in French, beaming at her. "We're all grateful you were able to fill in at a moment's notice.

His gut was sneaking up on him now, the old man, but he was still in such a shape that any gent would aspire to be in at that age. The Baron was a longtime friend of the Volturi, an ally, but a very charming acquaintance to have. His blue eyes were alight, teeming with curiosity that complemented his smoothed back white-blonde hair and million dollar white toothed smile. His wife Rebecca, sadly, was just a bag on his arm. A beautiful bag, but a bag nonetheless. Dead brown eyes, pale blonde hair, straight features; she was the most attractive kind of bland, especially for her age, but damn she could depress a three year old. In my six years of knowing the pair I'd only heard her speak four times, each one excusing herself from our company where she would disappear for the night. She was the total opposite of Royce King and it was a wonder to no one why he did the things he was known for, sick as they may be. Anyone would want some excitement with _her _draped around their shoulders.

But the fact that his curious eyes were sizing Bella up made every hair on the back of my neck stand on edge. I sat up in my seat.

"Merci, monsieur," she replied. "I promise do the best I can to assist you all."

"You'll do fine." Felix's low voice had an edge to it that made me feel no better with the direction of dinner.

The next few hours passed without too many hurdles. With 24 guests in all there were bound to be a few complications regarding language barriers but Isabella was a good sport about it all. Bella and myself included, the main group talked amongst themselves where our entourages kept to their side of the table, and they were such a diverse group that we might as well have just sat Bella with them. I brought a small group with me, Collin and Brady, and I only needed them to keep an eye on my busy birdie across the table while I worked.

It was good that she wasn't able to pay ear to all of the conversations that transgressed at dinner. Much of it was about the most nefarious of our trades and new weapons being spotted on the market, who was attacking who and which of our favorite killers was killed instead. All spoken in Italian of course to keep the little translator in the dark but I knew she understood every word, that some of the things that came from the respectable Baron's mouth made her want to cringe. I had a snaking feeling that she was relieved whenever someone requested her assistance.

She was doing exceptionally well and the swelling of pride in me grew more pronounced as the night went on.

"Looks like she's useful after all, eh Santiago?" Victoria purred as Bella went to the hall opposite us to help someone.

Felix answered in the huffing Santiago's stead, "Its good she's putting herself to use. I would have been shocked to find that the business savvy Edward Anthony hired a wet rag." He lifted his glass in my direction. "An excellent choice. And one not too hard on the eyes either."

I bit back a slur to hold my drink up as well before taking it all down.

"Wherever did you find her, Edward?" the Baron asked leaning forward. I knew full well where Royce's interest was stemming from, as did everyone else. His wife beside him watched her plate of food with disinterest.

"Now, now, Royce…" Victoria started. I cut her off.

"The slums of Marais." I took Ms. Rebecca's cue, watching the liquid in my flute churn as I twirled it between my fingers. "She's from Los Angeles, single, no family to speak of, dirt poor but has lived in France long enough to translate the language. She seemed like a dolt when I met her and we just so happened to need a translator so…" I shrugged.

"No family you say?"

Years of affiliation aside, if Royce thought I was letting even one of his sycophantic fingers touch a hair on Bella's trimmed head he was fucking kidding himself.

"She's off limits," Felix said sharply, picking the words right out of my head. "She's from California—the last thing I need on my plate is a lost girl on my hands for the Americans to charge me with for your fetishes, King."

The Baron was visibly disappointed as he nursed his cup.

When Isabella returned with a polite smile on her lightly made up face the conversation returned to safer, less rage inducing grounds. When the tables were cleared the company moved to the sitting room for drinks, and I had Collin on one side of the room and Brady on the other. I wouldn't be able to watch Bella in the coming hour or so and I needed eyes on her at all times. They knew that failure meant their lives. Ignoring her hopeful eyes on me as I paced to the door, I stepped out into the courtyard for a smoke.

Those pools of deep brown were stuck in my head even as I systematically slid my fingers over Victoria's firm breast. Not even in the near vicinity and she was the only thing I could think about, damn her. She wouldn't be satisfied until she'd affected all areas of my work, _ma jeune fille américaine_.

Jimmy Christos was a very hard man to get in touch with was what I gathered with Victoria. In all these months of planning and working out plans to arrange this meeting he'd been elusive, teasing us with the knowledge that he would be in the area but never coming through. Granted, in my heroic mission to return Isabella to America I was also the cause of much rescheduling but I was here now and he was not. It was that exact show of self-entitlement that gave me no remorse at the thought of ridding the world of him.

The man sells a few more RPG's than us and thinks that the world spins in the direction he decides to wipe his ass.

So long as he was alive I couldn't take Bella back; it would be impossible. I needed Aro at the position of Top Dog, Alpha tradesman, to get him when he least expected it. He had army aplenty but he was shallow, and as the positions were replaced and he was moved to the top of the chain he would be at his most vulnerable, too busy celebrating to watch his back. I was his right hand after all; I knew that man better than his primary doctor. As it was though, since he had no expectations for this meeting other than an increase in territory, I would give my favorite boss a parting gift, the only thing that could make his limp dick hard after years of flaccidity: a spot at the top and the death of Jimmy Christos.

I slid my hand inside of Victoria's silk gown. She wasn't wearing a bra, and she was hot for me, as she always was. Her distant husband Amun was old and compliant, leaving his young and wanton wife to her own pleasures as long as she provided him with details of her adventures. As far as I knew that was the only way he could get off, his own hand and regaling others' tales. I expected that he'd watched us more than once like this, too.

That neither excited nor bothered me. I could perform with or without an audience, and in the end, who I was with was nothing more than a bank of information. Victoria had no particular value at this point anymore. I already got everything that I needed out of her for the night but you never looked more suspicious than when you lost interest too quickly. I could end this as soon as it had started if I simply pulled her skirt up and did her against the cool stone wall of the chateau's wall…

Which forced me to remember who else I'd taken against a wall…

We would be seen, of course, by security cameras, by the armed sentries with near flawless detachment. When Felix played back the cams he would probably tape us and supply a copy for Victoria's husband to jack off to, as well as anyone else with the right price.

My hand went between Vic's legs and she moaned into my neck. She was void of underwear, too, no doubt knowing that I would be using her tonight. She was groping for my zipper, and I knew that she had every expectation for me to be hard for her, but that I could only will myself semi-erect pissed me off. This just wasn't doing it for me anymore. _Victoria _wasn't doing it for me anymore, no matter how many times I thought about the look on her face when she came, or the sounds she made or even how her manicured fingers felt around my cock, I couldn't deliver.

I willed it anyway, reaching for my zipper with my other hand, reluctant but ready to accommodate her…when I realized that it wasn't her face I had envisioned climaxing, but rather my inept Miss. Swan's.

And just like that I was no longer in the mood. I took her hand away from my fly and instead used the hand already cupping her to make her come, almost instantly, so hard that she was screaming as her body jerked still. She wanted to let the whole world know we were out here; I covered her mouth with my palm and she bit me, hoping to draw blood to amuse her love of rough fun. I stopped her, getting a grip of her flame-orange hair in my free hand and forcing it back. The whimper that came from the back of her throat was like that of a wounded lioness's. Victoria herself was like a cat—cold, unscrupulous, and impermeable to any sane person's pain threshold.

And I was uninterested.

I pulled away, letting her skirt billow down around her perfect legs and she leaned back against the stone wall, hazy eyed and sated, her bloody mouth open as she panted.

I never wanted to strike a woman more than I did now but she would only think I was coming on to her.

"Well, that was…fun," she said in a husky purr. "An excellent start."

"We've finished," I said, and the words caught even me off guard since I had every intention of stringing her along.

But I didn't want her—at all—and I had nothing else to gain on this venture. All I wanted was the tiny woman inside who looked at me like I was the only man in the world.

"Whatever are you talking about, Eddie?" she giggled, oblivious, putting her arms around my waist. "Come now, undo your pants and let's have some fun, hmm?"

I leaned over and kissed her full red lips, ignoring the blood on them. "We had fun while it lasted, doll, but isn't it about time you found another playmate? Amun must be tired of hearing about me by now. Maybe choose a woman next time."

She wasn't offended, as I expected. She smiled like a cat with a treat. "We could ask Miss. Swan to join us, too, if you want. She could be very entertaining."

As much as I liked to believe I was losing my touch I hid my irritation well. "Not at all my type."

"And neither am I, apparently." She wiped the smeared blood from her chin. "Not any more, at least."

"Perhaps next time," I suggested lightly.

"Perhaps not." She brushed me aside, turning the corner and marching up the wooden deck steps without a glance back in my direction. I lit a cigarette and dismissed her, blowing the plume of smoke skyward, letting my mind wander to more important avenues…letting my mind wander back to Bella.

I wanted to put my fist through a wall. I wanted to create a double of myself with the specific purpose of decking, well, myself. As I leaned against the stones and let my head hit the rocks I wondered why I was no longer Edward Masen. Where did the cold-blooded murderer go? Why was the ruthless killer and smooth negotiator disappearing with this inattentive, indecisive shell left behind? I dragged a hand through my hair and pulled at the ends, lost. This wasn't like me. I wasn't myself lately. When did I change?

The time reel flew by. I was me when I killed those goons outside of Bella's house back in Washington. I wasn't me when I lost my cool with Bella when she asked about my father. I was me when I smuggled the girl across the globe. I wasn't me when I went back to get her after she'd left me despite what I told her—that I wasn't going back to get her. I was me when I fucked her in Volterra; hard, cold, in control…but I wasn't me when I felt like absolute shit without her for a month.

I wasn't me when I killed Tanya for her. I wasn't me when I made her promises that I had every intention of going through with. I wasn't me when I told her about Jean Masen. I damn sure wasn't me when she told me she loved me…

And Edward Masen didn't even exist when I made love to her over and over again until she was begging me to let her up. I didn't fuck her that day—I made love to her, with everything I had in me.

My eyes slid shut. My hand fell from my hair and smacked against my thigh and I almost gave in to the urge to sit on the ground with my head between my knees. I knew what was wrong with me. The reason sat at the base of my throat, burning me, tickling my tongue. If I said it aloud it would be real, it would be a breathing entity and I could leave it right here in the garden, walk away from it and not look back just as Victoria had left me.

But the words were as foreign as the feelings I felt around the girl, as I felt _about_ her. I didn't know how to move my mouth to accommodate those words, how much emphasis I should put behind them, which facial expressions to apply. That dead space in my chest stuttered again and it almost felt alive now. It was a heavy thing, burdensome, and I had no idea how she or anyone else could hold the infuriating muscle in such high regard.

I should have been focused on this business meeting, should have been tracking Victoria down and taking her up on her offer to screw again. I should have been getting Royce King as intoxicated as possible to pick trade routes from his one track mind.

But fuck it.

Instead I was rising to my feet, dropping my cigarette to the ground, and striding back into the chateau, that ever exasperating muscle beating mutedly against my ribcage as I grabbed Isabella Swan by the wrist, whisked her up a flight of steps and, too impatient to search for her bloody room, kissed her as if I was within an inch of my life.

She was resistant, unresponsive as I coaxed her with my mouth but giving in slowly, reluctantly, and then her lush lips were moving against mine in a way that made the earth rock. I tilted her head up with my thumb and dipped my tongue into her, tasting her until her chest was flush against mine and her hands were gripped too tightly in my hair. I leaned in to gather her thighs in my hands and she wrapped around me habitually, needing me as much as I need her. I kissed the corner of her mouth to her cheek, her eyebrow back to her mouth again and hoped with everything I had I was telling her the words that refused to leave my voice box, that didn't know how.

It's as I pull back to view the angelic face that tamed the devil in me, that with a steely eye and even more solid determination she whispers, "I hate you," and I feel that wretched muscle give a painful ache.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Back into hiding I go!


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's Note**: Hi all! This would be in sooner but a nice fat hurricane knocked me powerless for five days. Nice, ain't she? If there are any East Coastee's out there I hope you're all doing alright after that mess! Enough from me, enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 33: Give and Receive

I clutched my hand to my silk covered stomach and pushed away from him, attempting to fade into the wall and away from his touch as bile rose to my throat. He reeked of perfume and his hands on my face had me cringing, the intimate scent on them nauseating.

Somehow I knew that he would find some way to put distance between us but I hadn't imagined it would be like this, that he would do what he did. Especially after I'd aired out my feelings to him.

Because I'd aired out my feelings to him.

The entire day had gone so smoothly that this should have been expected.

I was skeptical and wary as I'd been driven past the dozen or so checkpoints and security stations to get here but Chateau Twilight was a beautiful venue, even if it was more beefed up than the prison of Fort Knox. A gorgeous estate settled above a sharp cliff side that dropped into a lively green sea. I was even more disarmed by the warm reception I received from everyone here, by the missing aura of mystery and death that surrounded everything else Edward was involved in, aside from the dark haired and hulking Felix and the distrustful and white-haired Santiago.

And now the cheap floozy red head whose smell was all over Edward.

He tried to step closer but I shoved him back by the chest, digging my heels into the floor for a boost. Obviously it was like pushing a building but he moved anyway, and the lost and almost vulnerable expression on his face made me bite my tongue, as if I was the one who'd done wrong. He was probably surprised that I was the one withdrawing this time. Good.

The next words out of his mouth, "Come again?" almost made me regret what I'd said, and in the future maybe I would, but not now. No, not now and probably for a while after that.

"I said I hate you. And I do. I hate you, Edward Anthony. How could you? Why...Why would you...? Knowing that I was here...Not 24 hours later..."

I couldn't form a coherent question. Speaking was a bit beyond me at the moment. My fingers vibrated with restless energy; my knees were unsteady; breath whistling and chest burning, on fire as I stared him down.

I would not cry. I was hurt but I refused to ruin my make up for something that I'd set myself up for from the beginning, for something eventual: heart break.

"Bella -"

"Shut up."

"Listen -"

"No! Listen to you? I don't want to be anywhere near you."

"If you close your mouth and let me explain -"

I sprung forward so we were nose to shoulder. I needed to be in his face as he was always in mine. As much as I wanted to scream and jump down his throat I had a mind about me. I didn't want to cause a scene - Carmen taught me better than that. My voice was quiet as I stepped up to him.

"Fuck you," I hissed. "You think there's anything to explain to me when there's lipstick on your mouth? Really?"

His face hardened but his eyes burned through me. "I'm doing my job. You wanna go home, don't you? This is me; this is what I do, is what gets the job done. Christ, I didn't even screw her."

"Oh? I'm shocked."

"Mature."

"What do you want me to say?" I asked, exasperated. "You want me to clap you on the back for having some restraint or something?"

He trapped me between his arms with either hand beside my head on the wall.

"I want you to understand that I'm doing this for you," he said.

I shook my head at him, not bothering to avert my gaze when a tiny noise of distress squeezed up my throat. That flash of vulnerability from him hit me again but it was easily ignored. My eyes were burning, but no tears fell. There was too much pain here, being so close to him. If I didn't move I was going to break down. Hard.

"You can do whatever you want, Edward," I said quietly, wearily. I was just so tired suddenly. I had no choice but I would barely be able to make it through the rest of the night now. "I don't care anymore. Do what you want."

"You don't care anymore?" he asked, just as quiet.

I shook my head. "No. I don't care."

The cool, almost animal-like confidence that Edward always carried himself with faded away as his shoulders slowly began to slouch. His hands slid lower and slower down the wall until his fingers were on and squeezing my naked shoulders, his eyes bleeding into mine. I wanted to shrug him off again but the earnest look on his face stopped me. He wasn't just holding me - he was pinning me down so I wouldn't run.

The exhaustion rolled over me once more and all I wanted to do was sleep, easily and dreamlessly. Alone, as I'd woken up this morning.

"Move," I said calmly.

"No."

"We really don't have time for this, you know."

"Don't care."

"Felix will probably come looking for us. He already doesn't like me very much."

"Fuck 'em."

My voice was dead, flat. I had no strength for inflection. "He'll be especially suspicious since you dragged me out of the room as you did. Very smooth."

"Still don't care."

"Is there a point to keeping me here now?" I asked, a little frustrated but unable to show it.

"Be quiet. I'm thinking."

I felt a tic beneath my eye. "Get the hell off of me."

He stared at me blankly for a second, then took the one step that put any slight amount of distance between us.

"Sleep in my room tonight," he breathed, and I was slightly stunned by his bluntness.

"You're kidding," I scoffed. "Please tell me you're joking right now."

His mouth fell into tight line. "I'm not. Come to my room tonight."

"Fuck you," I hissed. I had a mind to spit in his face. "If you're so lonely ask Victoria to sleep with you. Again."

"I did not sleep with her!"

"Let me go, Edward!"

"Like hell," he muttered, and then his mouth covered mine fervidly, forcing my own to part for him so he could thrust his tongue into me.

Had this been under any other circumstance, at any other place and after any other conversation we'd had I would have given in, would have let him kiss me.

But, at that moment, I was just pissed beyond expression. Anger burst from my chest so acute that it made my teeth clamp down, catching Edward hard enough for him to withdraw looking as annoyed as I was. Of their own volition my arms were putting that much-needed distance between us again and shoving him...

And before I could regain control of my limbs, my hand was snapping back and going across Edward's beautifully livid face with a fresh, loud slap.

Whatever waning jolt of energy that fueled that reaction in me died almost immediately, left my lead-like arms dangling at my sides without anything to do with them. He was shocked, obviously, but I was even moreso. I hadn't meant to, I hadn't even considered it, but the action had those God-forsaken tears burning behind my eyes. His head was still turned off to the side from my blow, cheek an angry red with the print of my hand on it.

"Excuse me," I whispered, and then I was dashing down the hallway and down the stairs to return to the party, muttering some half-assed apology to Felix about not feeling well, and speed-walking back to my room blindly, only letting the sob in my chest be known once my door was locked.

I cried, but I did not allow myself to stop moving until I could afford to. I listened to my own babyish wails as I chucked my too-tight high heels off and into a corner, as I peeled out of my dress and shrugged on a colorless nightgown, and I sniffled uncontrollably as I washed my make up off in my en suite bathroom sink. I was still going once I fell into the heavenly comfortable bed but I was out like a light after curling a pillow my size into my chest.

The following three days flew by my eyes at breakneck speeds, and it was hard to believe that I found myself hopelessly bored after just two.

What little entertainment I got from translating for the attending company was stretched. They needed me more now then they had the first night, since they were all becoming a bit more social with one another, but the conversations I was invited to join were trivial, nothing but small talk that I participated in with another group half an hour before.

I found simple pleasures in sitting above the cliff out back and watching the green waves crash against sharp rock. I could usually be found with a blanket down in the patches of foliage a few yards over if someone requested me, napping out of boredom. There were no cellphones, no computers or television, not even any board games, but there was a single deck of cards that sat in a framed glass case of the parlor room. It was a peculiar looking deck, taller and thinner than what was usually seen and I could only guess they were that way as a collectable. I wanted to play with them, but when I asked Felix if they were playable he looked at me as if I were a roach on his turtleneck sweater.

Although he was my host I avoided Felix like an STD. I could see in his strained features that he tried very hard to be kind towards me but then I would say something that he did not wholeheartedly agree with and he would flex his thick fingers, causing me to backtrack every time.

Santiago ignored me thankfully, and I no longer had to play dumb when he decided to bash me in Italian. Out of all the main players in this event Santiago needed me the most and he utilized me at every turn, but otherwise viewed me as if I didn't exist.

The beautifully aged Lady Charlotte was all elegance and dry humor, where Amun, the almost silent dark-haired husband of Victoria, engaged me just a bit more than he did the rest of the company.

Royce King was the friendliest of the group, never shy to draw me into his conversations or pull me aside and keep me all to himself as he asked me every question under the sun, often straying to more perverse topics such as number of partners and favorite positions. I would be as red as a ripe tomato every time and that never bothered him, but instead invited more questions. His wife Rebecca hadn't a gleam of care in her dull eyes, and I had yet to hear her voice.

In her stead, though, was the lioness Victoria, always sure to add her input and be as vocal as she could get in the measliest of chats. Victoria made the hair on the back of my neck rise in alarm whenever she was near - which was often, almost always. I did not want to think she was following me, watching me, but I also did not want to dismiss her presence altogether. Upon our first dinner she did defend me to Santiago but she was even more attentive after she came storming in from the courtyard that evening.

Edward didn't try anything after that awful first night either, and I wasn't sure if I was thankful or angry towards him for that.

He'd yet to apologize to me - yes, that was why I avoided him. _I'm doing this for you_, he said...but the words were lost to me when they came from rouge red tinted lips. How they came off was as a defense for him, as if it was explanation enough and nothing else needed to be said. That pissed me off more than the actions themselves because, on some level, I knew where he was coming from. I had no mixed notions that he was mine and mine alone and I knew he had every right to do whatever he damn well pleased, moreso of a right when it was in his job description. What killed me was that he didn't see anything wrong with fucking other women and then returning to me as if I would accept him with open arms. That he even thought that said more about how he saw me than him. It hurt.

On the fourth morning of the retreat I was especially irritable. I felt I could destroy anything that crossed my path, including Felix. My mood didn't lighten any when after sifting through the mountain of clothes in my suitcases I couldn't find one pair of jeans, sweats or yoga pants. Dresses, skirts, three-pieces, but no real casualwear. I just wanted to toss everything out the window.

I didn't. I ripped a color that caught my eye out of the pile none too gently and sulked into the bathroom for a shower. I came out smelling of expensive body wash and baby lotion but I could swear I felt a gray hair coming in when I realized what I had to wear all day.

It was some fifty degrees outside but there I was in a sleeveless dress with a hemline that barely kept my ass from view. I didn't have time to change or even find an alternative - breakfast began at seven sharp followed by the morning meeting and if you missed out on the meal then you were at a lost until late lunch, depending on how smoothly the meetings went. I grumbled every obscenity I knew in multiple languages as I searched for a pair of leggings. I found a pack of unopened stockings in one suitcase's compartments, tore through the packaging, and wrestled into the garment, all the while trying to pull my hair up into something elegant or even presentable with a clip between my teeth. I had two minutes to make it to the dining area before trays were cleared.

I managed not to break my ankles stomping into my heels, and the second my feet were in I was pushing the door open to go, where I see the person I want to see the least leaning against the window across from my room, waiting for me. I wasn't shocked to see him there; his room was just down the hall from my own. I was, though, a little shocked that he was actually smirking at me in that benevolent way that made me want to wring his neck.

"See something you like, Masen?" I asked as I shut the door behind me. I didn't wait for him to stand or even return my sarcastic greeting before I was speeding down the hall.

This building was impossible to navigate. I'd more than once found myself completely turned around from where I needed to be and in the wrong wings entirely sometimes.

He caught up to me easily, his graceful stride matching my hellish one so we were side by side. "I was wondering when you were going to make it out of there. I was tempted to go in to check on you."

"Who do I have to thank that you didn't?"

"Hostile so early in the morning, Bella? That can't be good for your skin."

I grumbled unintelligibly even to my own ears.

"How was last night for you?" he asked.

"The same as every other night. How was Victoria last night for you?"

"The same as every other night," he responded bitterly.

He'd taken her out back yet again last evening, which had me seeing stars I was so furious. I watched Victoria reenter the parlor room as unruffled as when she left but I didn't stick around to see if Edward would come back the same. Instead I tucked my tail between my legs and excused myself from The Social to down a shot of Brandy in my room and rant myself to sleep, which explained why I could hunt down grizzly bears this morning.

"If you're here to throw the fact that you're a man-whore in my face let me save you the trouble. I am _very_ aware."

His hand shot out across my body to grip my shoulder and I was flung against a wall with his body against mine before I could even process it. He somehow managed not to hurt or bruise me despite how fast he moved, but such feats were no surprise for him.

He rested his forearm above my head on the wall and leaned in. "You're avoiding me," he deduced.

"Yes," I deadpanned. "One would think you could take a hint."

"Why?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. Why are you going out of your way to avoid me, _Cherie_?"

"Aren't I supposed to do just that?"

"Not as gung-ho as you are, no. If anything you look more suspicious."

"I'll adjust."

"No. Talk to me."

"Go talk to Victoria."

"Are you jealous?" he asked, his mouth crooked.

"Go to hell."

"Are you?"

"No," I huffed. "And why would I be?"

"Because you love me."

The sound of reverence in his voice was definitely a part of my imagination. I suddenly felt very naked, exposed. I rubbed at the trail of goosebumps on either of my arms and looked down the hall, anywhere but into his eyes.

"Are you cold?" he asked softly. I began to protest but he pinned me to the wall with his knee between my legs as he shrugged out of his suit jacket. I thought he was going to drape it over my shoulders but he instead kept it on his right arm and again held it over my head. The entire hall left of me disappeared as I was enveloped in his rich scent. I inhaled surreptitiously but put on a face of irritation as Edward bent low to press his lips to my temple, to my cheek, my chin, then he lifted my head to move his lips across my throat, down, and work the circuit back up to other side of my face. His jaw was covered in stubble, a short fuzz that scratched and tickled my skin. It had only been a couple of days since he last touched me but my body was starved for him.

"I miss you, _bellissima_," he whispered, and the pain that racked my chest was so sharp I actually moaned as my hands came up to grip his hair. His lips hovered above my own in askance.

"N-no," I said, and I cursed my pitiful shaken voice.

His hand caught my chin as he forced me to look up at him. The closest window happened to be a few feet from us but behind his charcoal-gray jacket, so his hooded eyes appeared wickedly dark.

"It must be a pain to always be so righteous," he murmured.

"Leave me alone."

He shook his head, never breaking his gaze. "I want you."

_I want you too!_ my subconscious hollered. In fact, every part of me beside my rational brain wanted him, but the resistance was fuzzy and tainted with the sweet, distinct taste of Edward's breath as he slid his mouth over mine. I felt in the slight hesitation of his lips that he wanted to go slow but it'd been too long for the both of us, and his tongue reaching out to caress my lips was like throwing gasoline on a blazing fire. The hands in his hair were curling and gripping as I held his skull to me. I threw myself into the kiss as if I would be lost without him, lapping at his mouth like a dying man in need of water.

The fingers of his free hand were on every inch of me within reach. He held my neck, cradled my head to him, rubbed his thumb across my shoulder, grasped at my hip and waist - he was everywhere.

"I've missed you, _ma belle_," he panted across my jaw line. "I've missed you. Christ, I want you," he said. "I need to see you come for me, love. Here. Right now." And before I could muddle through a response that free hand of his was ripping through the leg of my stocking and pressing itself against the junction between my thighs, fingers spread to cover my sex.

"Jesus, yes, _belle_. Wet for me, always hot and wet for me. Spread them, spread your legs, sweetheart. Fuck yes. So beautiful, my Bella."

I was dying, suffering as his expert fingers worked me into a mess of nerves and his practiced tongue fucked my mouth. I clawed at the back of his shirt, my nails raking over the familiar muscles hidden under his silk shirt as I gasped and hiccoughed into his kiss, trying so desperately not to shout and bring attention to my shameful position.

"Go on, _belle_. Let me hear you. I'm the only here to hear you scream, to feel your precious cunt squeeze my fingers, to watch you let go when you come. Come for me, Bella. Milk my fingers, sweetheart."

The response was automatic, the reaction immediate as I jerked still and locked my thighs around his hand to shatter and fall apart under the weight of my orgasm. It was impossible not to make a noise, especially as Edward continued to stroke the magic patch of nerves that he knew so well. I sobbed into his neck, more naked, more exposed, than I'd been before. His fingers left me feeling empty yet sated, and he lift them to both my lips and his before shushing me and pulling me into a soul-searingly tender kiss. Tasting myself on him was erotic enough to illicit a delicious pulse from my core but he pulled away at just the right moment.

Whatever spell he had me under lifted, and, just as the other night, I was left feeling completely deflated, that I'd just woken up for the morning moot. I leaned heavily against Edward as he dropped the jacket from around us to drape around my shoulders.

"Do you want to go back to your room?" he asked gently, smoothing the loose hair back from my face and putting his arm around me.

I shook my head. "Work."

"They don't need you this afternoon."

"Breakfast," I muttered hazily, and he kissed my temple as he told me he'd have it delivered.

I don't quite remember making it back into my room, let alone my wing, but I was suddenly lying on top of my swath of Egyptian cotton bedsheets with the full weight of Edward on top of me. Reason had yet to return to me as I wrapped my arms around his back to hold him to me. The bed felt too damn good and he smelled too damn good and I wasn't sober enough to hand Edward his ass for making me an exhibitionist.

Cuddling seemed too soft and serious a word to describe how we held one another, but I'd gotten better rest in Edward's embrace than I had in days.

He was in the bathroom as I'd woken up, coming to me in only a bath towel around his perfect lean hips and a screen of steam for background, and I didn't feel any of the shame I'd felt earlier as I held my hand out to him to take him beneath me, at my own pace.

"I missed this, too," he muttered into my hair afterward. He rubbed his hand up and down my naked spine for emphasis. "Us. You."

I didn't quite feel the need to return the sentiment. I was, after all, his open book. I was still trying to find a way to approach the issue I'd had with him these past few days without throwing the moment out the window.

"I...apologize to you, Isabella."

My ears popped, filled with static. The feeling in my fingers disappeared and the temperature of hell dropped a steady four-hundred degrees.

"Do you really have to make that face at me? I already regret having said it."

"No...No! No, I'm sorry, I was just...a little blindsided. I...You've never apologized to me before...You know, ever."

"Well I meant it."

My smile was unwilling, because I really did want to let him know I appreciated it, so I hid the smirk by smoothing the grimace on his beautiful, austere face with my thumbs, then my mouth, voicing my thanks in the language we preferred.

Edward's hand moved over my shoulder to cup my neck as he rolled me onto my back and held me immobile with his hips.

"My apology does not excuse my behavior lately but it's all I have as of now. I won't say it again, so open your ears, woman. I _did not _have sex with Victoria, and...and I'm sorry, Bella."

My head was foggy, full of smoke as my eyes swam staring up at him. What was I supposed to say? I was unsure, unprepared because, and with good reason, I never believed I would be put in the position to be able to forgive him if he asked it of me. This was new and uncharted territory.

I still didn't quite have the words to assure him that I understood so I curled my fingers into his hair and slowly pulled him down to my chest to stroke his hair. I wanted to hide my tears but, stubborn one that he is, he looked up my body to my wet face and wiped the salt trails with the pad of his pointer finger.

"You're uncharacteristically quiet, so I guess that's the green light to keep going."

There was more? What was the date? Christmas was quite early this year, it seemed.

"I told you about my past, and I've never told anyone else all of that before, aside from Carlisle whom I owed my life. You know how my mother was. You know about my crazy aunt. You know I was an orphan at seven. Love and apologies are taught lessons. I grew up on my own terms, Bella, at my own pace. I learned everything there was to learn with time and experience. How did one discover love in a loveless world and how did he learn humility with no sense of right or wrong?

"So after I became an adult, after I screwed women to have what I needed and get where I needed to go, when words like 'marriage' and," -he swallowed- "'love' came into the equation, I, in my own way, panicked."

"Haven't you ever seen the movies?" I interjected lightly. My hand was still in his hair, fingertips threading about the colorful strands, and the fingers he had circling my hip had gone to clutching unconsciously when his voice had strained. I had a reflex to comfort him, as I always did. "How the guy always gets the girl?"

"I've never watched a movie before."

My hand froze.

"Never?"

"Nope."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Does it bother you that I haven't?" He rested his chin on my sternum to look at me squarely. I didn't feel the scratch of his facial hair as I did before.

"Well, yeah, sort of. It's kind of a kid rite of passage."

His smile was slow, crooked, and sardonic.

"I happened to skip that phase of life, unfortunately."

"Oh. Right."

"But..." He took my free hand and kissed the knuckles with his eyes closed. "I understand the premise of movies, you know, and the entertainment factor that they hold for most people. This little tale of ours would make a wonderful flick, no?"

"I'm not sure I would want to share this story with too many people outside of a few medical professionals."

"I would."

"And what would it be titled?"

I was a little breathless. Edward's eyes were all liquid and heat as his mouth moved over my hand in ways that reminded me of other places they'd moved similarly. Prolonged exposure to such perfection couldn't be healthy.

And when he answered my question with "Stockholm Syndrome" and the hand at my hip dropped to cup the cleft between my thighs I went spiraling.

He raised up on his forearm to hover over my arched body. His breath was husky in my ear.

"I think it would make a pretty thoughtful flick, don't you? I certainly do. You see, sweetheart, my tragic past had left me bereft of this confounding term most people identify as 'love'. When a woman three times my age would find release in my embrace and fervidly confess that she loved me my answers were always different; 'Okay', 'Thank you', 'I'm flattered', but because I'd never experienced such feelings firsthand I thought it disrespectful to respond with the same sentiment."

He leaned onto his forearm for support as he sunk two fingers into my center, curling them, spreading them, exploring me, and his thumb, bless him, was circling my clit in tight, slow circles that had my hips churning.

"I tried to use it once, and the woman slapped me because I had grinned afterward. I never saw her again after that."

The thumb restricted its movement to two directions now: back and forth, still slow. The two fingers inside me had turned to three. My eyes clamped shut and I mashed my lips together so as not to interrupt him.

"I felt wrong after saying it as well. Its weight was a new experience, one that I wasn't sure I liked too well."

Back, forth, back, forth.

"So I used it sparingly, for a job for example..."

Twist, curl, twist, curl.

"Or not at all."

Left, right, left, right.

"You understand?"

"Mhmm," I hummed absently.

"And over time I developed a hatred of hearing it, and like a coward I ran once someone threw that word at me when I felt that it was superficial. After all, it was unfair that everyone else could use the word as freely as they pleased where I could not. Understand?"

"Yes," I gasped. He had pushed the tip of his digits into that magical zone which caused hysteria, and my answer had less to do with what he was saying and more with what he was doing.

He used the hand of the arm beside my head to pull my chin toward him to run his tongue over my bottom lip, then nibble lightly with his teeth before drawing in to slide his hot mouth over mine harshly, possessively. His fingers withdrew from me so leisurely I made a noise of distress once they were finally gone. He didn't give me long enough to miss the sensation as he slammed into me, so delectably rough for my sensitive tissue I cried out at the tiny quivers of my withheld orgasm. He pulled all the way out to the tip, then lunged forward again, sending the headboard flying into the wall.

"Tanya tried using that word with me once," he continued, and his voice was so deep I barely recognized it. He ceased to move once he was completely sheathed, responding to my high-pitched mews with the small sway of his hips into mine, side to side, grinding into and against me. "Whatever _marriage_ Caius forced us to try at was spurned instantly, because I couldn't bring myself to care for anyone who abused the word I was unable to pronounce. Victoria tried to use it, but I shut her down and put her in her place fast enough for her to never try it again. Hearing them say they love me just pissed me off."

For some reason his use of the two women's names didn't induce a murderous rage in me when he said them. Maybe it was because of how he told me of then, disgustedly; or maybe it was because I was the one in his arms despite that we'd all apparently confessed our feelings.

"Then why haven't you left me for dead yet?" I panted, irritated, frustrated, turned on yet completely confused. "I don't have anything that they don't. I have _less_ than them honestly. They're both...fucking supermodels. Victoria is all beauty and charisma and cash. Tanya had curves for miles and she was your match athletically and physically. I can't compete with that. Not even in the slightest.

"We're nothing alike. I have no idea who you are outside of the basics. I don't do anything for you but cause trouble. I could spend hours counting how many times you've saved me but would only need one hand to count when I've helped you. I don't need a scientist to tell me how useless I am to you..."

"You're not useless."

I continued as if he'd said nothing. "I screw things up more often than even I care to admit, and without even realizing what I did I drove you away for a month..."

"That had nothing to do with you."

"I can't even get into how pathetic I was that whole time you were gone. You're the epitome of strength and perfection and I'm just a...a-a leech sucking up everything you've got without giving anything in return. You know what I was thinking after I saw you with Victoria the other day? I thought that you two looked normal walking out back together. That you looked _right._ I hardly deserve to be around you anymore unless -"

"And who are you to decide who I belong with?" he thundered. This version of beautiful was dark; he was shaking with suppressed anger that had me lapsing into a nervous silence. His entire body seemed coiled with the tension and there was a muscle in his jaw that jumped relentlessly.

"I-"

"Shut up, and you listen to me, little girl."

My eyes widened as he snatched my face between his fingers and plunged deep within my body. He had my hip in his other hand, pushing and pulling me onto his awaiting shaft with angry fervor as he forced me to keep my eyes open.

"You think you're a burden to me because you need a little help now and then, Bella?" he ground out between clenched teeth. "Who do you think got you into that trouble in the first place?

"So what if you can't lift more than 30 pounds? So what if those two earn money by being trophy wives and going on a serial killing spree where you make bank with hard work and education? You really think I prefer botox and dyes over God-given and natural?

"And if I think for even a second you're implying that you're not beautiful I'll paddle you so you won't sit for days, _compris ma fille?"_

He released my face, gathering to his knees and wrapping his arm around my back to pull me into his chest so I sunk down on his turgid length completely. My mouth widened with every inch, walls constricting and contracting as I pulled him into me greedily. He held me still for a long moment, and then we were moving, sweat soaked and eager bodies sliding along one another, feeding off the other's drive and energy.

"Have you never taken a step back to stop comparing our differences to consider why you're perfect for me, _ma belle_?" he whispered huskily. His tongue glided from my shoulder to my neck, where he stopped to suck intently, causing me to arch into him, causing him to sink even deeper. He topped the spot with a kiss then latched his mouth onto mine, probing hungrily. He was breathless as he pulled away.

"Your innocence reels in the animal in me. Your honesty counters every lie I've ever told. You're so strong you make me look bad in comparison." Every sentence was punctuated with a chaste kiss, with a harder thrust. "My world is brighter with you around me. Everytime you speak you spark something dead within me. I die whenever I see you in pain. I could murder without end in sight when you doubt yourself. You-"

"Stop." I held my palm fast over his mouth before he could say anymore, before he could ruin me any further. "Just stop."

His lips puckered at my hand before he pulled it down over the the skin of his left breast, over his heart. I gasped feeling it palpitate under my touch, and Edward snaked an arm around my waist as he drove into me mercilessly. The first tremors of my orgasm hit me as Edward pressed his lips to my ear.

"My heart doesn't beat like this for either of them, _amoureux_. Only for you, my blind, bull-headed girl. Come for me, Isabella." His fingers reached between us to squeeze and stroke my clit and I was lost as the coil in my belly popped with a pulse that ran from the peaks of my nipples to my womb. Sensation blinded me. I wanted to cry out his name but it was a garbled excuse. I pitched forward, my teeth grappling onto Edward's neck and my nails embedded in his back as he powered into me reaching his own climax. His forehead fell to my shoulder with his throaty groan and the last pump of his hips had him filling me as he jerked to a stop.

I wanted to glue him to me, to absorb his life force in the swath of my arms as he pulled us down into laying position on the bed, but I was content with just holding him to me as I brushed the moisture from my cheeks onto his chest. I was always falling asleep after we had moments like these, as if he were forcing me into exhaustion with each step of progression we made. He kissed my hair and I closed my eyes.

It was a long time until I could actually fall asleep, and Edward started speaking before I went over.

"You see nothing but weakness in the things I cherish most about you," he murmured, "but I want you to think about something before you trip off into your little brunette dreams: for someone who has never been loved veritably in his entire life and sinned all of the seven sins, is it entirely implausible to want the one person that shines opposite him and makes him reconsider? Is it totally impossible to want for the love she gives, selfishly, and repay her with his body and protection instead?"

My heart was pounding away, drumming against my ribs and his. Did he want me to answer him? Or was that just something he wanted to get off his chest? I could avoid any and all directions this could take if I just pretended to be asleep, but he would know, and I would know, and I would never have the opportunity to ask this question.

"It would depend," I heard myself say. "How long would she be giving until she reached his heart?"

His answer was hesitant, unsure, testing itself. "That would also depend. What if she'd had it all along?"

"Not all of it."

"No, not all...He's working on it."

"Why?"

"Hm?"

"Why not all of it?"

Edward sighed. "He's still taking it out of storage, preparing it from its untouched state. Time, sweetheart. That's all I ask."

"Time is the one thing I don't have," I whispered.

"And yet it's all I need," he said bitterly.

I lifted my head to look into his distressed eyes, looking back and forth between them, at the truth there that stocked his words.

"A movie once taught me that falling in love with someone only lasts but so long." I pushed a long lock away from his forehead and stroked it back. "Length of time varies of course."

"Then fall in love with me all over again," he commanded silkily, drawing my body against his, and the tenderness in his voice would have had me weak-kneed. "Fall in love with me ten more times if need be. I'm trying, belle, I promise you, but I need you to melt this frigid muscle of mine. You're tired. Don't strain yourself, we can talk later. Rest, love. I've stolen you away for the afternoon but I can't have you this evening. Let's enjoy this."

"Shut up and listen, Edward..."

"What is it?"

"I love you."

He exhaled into my hair and kissed my head again.

"And I thank God that you do."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I have some bad news, lovely. There are only two chapters remaining of Stockholm Syndrome, and an epilogue :(

I sigh of the sadness in my chest at the thought.

Until next time!


	34. Chapter 34

Author's Note: Totally my fault that this is late this time. Uploaded the chapter; forgot to add it to the story; *facedesk*

Anyway...it's almost that time, my dears. Yes, yes, I speak of that very near, very impending conclusion that weighs oh-so heavily on my heart. I don't even wanna talk about it just yet..

Go on, read! Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 34: One Man's Trash

Had I known that there were cameras covering almost every square inch of the entire chateau I would have rethought several choices that I'd made while I was there. One of those would be having readjusted my bra in the corner of the dining hall after everyone had exited. Another, when I pulled a wedgie out through my skirt during a toast, or even pulling out a camel toe during breakfast under the table. Little, vain things.

But allowing Edward to bring me to orgasm in the middle of a very wide, very public hallway would top the list effortlessly.

There were even cameras in all of the rooms, bathrooms included, which meant I hadn't had even a smidgen of privacy since I got here.

They were all very discreetly hidden. My ceiling, which I had only discounted as fancily done, had an almost spotted pattern across it; white dots that looked like cement or paint, and black dots that looked like glass. My cameras were in the glass unlike most other rooms, but once all the dots were pulled together they created a large lens that covered the entire suite, so nothing could be missed.

"What...the hell?"

"Felix likes to keep tabs on his guests," Edward shrugged.

"Isn't that a federal crime?"

He raised his eyebrow at me as if to say, "And?"

I sighed. "I hate that I'm being watched but I'll admit he hid all that pretty cleverly."

"Clever?" he snorted. "To you, maybe. Why would a normal person, a person who's done nothing wrong, think to look for cameras? Everyone else here in attendance, though..." He slouched on the desk he sat at and held his head in his hand. "We're all more than aware of all the cameras here."

"It doesn't bother you?" I held my hair up high between my fingers and searched through my luggage for a hair tie. Since I'd failed miserably at elegant this morning I assumed I could just do what I could - a ponytail. It fit with the replacement dress I wore, or so Edward said, but I'd need to ramp it up with a pair of heels and a clutch to pull it off as easily as any of the other women here could. Even having to pay attention to little frou-frou things like what complemented what made me want to roll my eyes. I'd never been very good at pairing clothes like what I'd been stocked with, but Edward seemed pretty comfortable with knowing how to wear everything.

He'd suggested my outfit in the first place.

As if it hardly needed to be said about a man who only dressed in Gucci, Armani and Prada, he had master taste in this type of thing.

"Not in the slightest. Felix trusts me enough to honor me with the key to the surveillance room so I could easily overwrite anything I want kept private. I only go in to check on what you would be doing in my absence, then delete anything I wouldn't want him seeing."

"And he doesn't notice?"

"I'm pretty handy with manipulating a tape."

"So...there's a tape floating around of us...ya' know, boning?"

His chuckle was low and light-hearted. "Several actually. We've wasted hours worth of film. On more than one cam. Come here."

I was on my knees in front of my suitcase, and he pat his pants as if he wanted me to crawl toward him. I threw a hairbrush at him, which he dodged, but I stood to walk between his parted legs anyway. He turned me facing opposite him before sitting me on his lap, and pulled the band from my wrist to put my hair up himself. His hands were feather-light and gentle.

"I liked your hair when it was longer," he said behind me.

"Me, too. Tanya didn't seem to though."

His hands stilled.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"No, baby, not that."

_Baby_. A warm tide of pleasure rolled over my skin at the word. He'd used other cute little pet names that I enjoyed — love, sweetheart, beautiful – but the effect was...different. It shouldn't have stood out from Edward's smooth, lax Brit accented speech but for some reason it did, and for some reason I wanted to hear him say it again.

As much as I wanted to play pretend on why the measly 4-letter word was so easy on the ears, I knew why. The other names, though endearing, didn't have the same amount of emotional investment in them. This one seemed...personal, on some level.

Shit, was he talking? I turned my head to see him.

"Hmm?"

"Off in your own world, love?"

"Call me that again."

His eyebrow rose. "Love?"

"No, the other thing."

Both eyebrows dropped now. "Baby?"

I nodded vigorously, and his smirk was slight and one-sided as he wrapped the freshly done ponytail around his fist and pulled my head down to brush his mouth over my ear. "Baby," he whispered, and just like before my skin warmed, made me shiver. "You like that, do you? Capital. Now I have something else to coerce you into joining me in sin with."

I rolled my eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

"It's hard to do," he said nudging his nose into my neck, "when that lovely arse of yours is propped against my -"

"Shut up!"

"...big, hard -"

I pushed at his chest but he wasn't really going anywhere. I sighed.

"Cock."

I was right in the middle of giving Edward an earful when a soft knock rapped against my door. I stilled, but Edward's previously amused countenance shifted to one of dispassionate irritation. It was just too smooth of a transition for me not to notice.

He unwrapped my hair from his hold and I stood up to answer the door. He caught my wrist.

"What?" I stage-whispered.

He looked me over for a second before pulling me back to him and, rather randomly, mussed my hair askew and raised the fabric of my dress up an inch, then twisted it slightly to the side.

"What the hell?"

"Trust me," he murmured. "I have to make your lips look swollen. Do you mind?"

He didn't give me any time to answer as he crashed his mouth to mine. He was rather rough, biting into both sets of my lips and nipping at the edges hard enough to make me squeak, but he wasn't worried about that.

"There," he sighed withdrawing. "You look pleasantly ravished and puffy. Off to the door with you." He tapped my ass for good measure, and I glared at him as he dropped gracefully to the bed.

Surprise, surprise - it was Amun.

"Good afternoon, Monsieur Amun." My guest's eyebrows furrowed as I came into sight, and I understood exactly why Edward did this to me now. I cleared my throat.

"Mademoiselle Swan," he nodded.

Amun unnerved me greatly, much like his wife, Victoria, did. His complexion was a light olive that complemented his phthalo green eyes. His hair was short, cropped, naturally curled and of the same color of his goatee, dark brown. His facial structure screamed of authority, even royalty, as if he were descended from a very long, very strong line of power, and it did not surprise me that he had someone like Victoria on his arm. But unlike Victoria, this man possessed the danger pheromone. The air around him simply reeked of bad going ons.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

"I simply came to check on you is all. You were not at breakfast, and we missed you during this morning's meeting."

I smiled tightly. They hadn't missed me in the slightest. "Forgive me, monsieur. I was not up with the sun as I usually am. I must have had a little too much to drink last night."

"I see. Would you like me to send for a pain killer?"

"That won't be necessary, Amun."

Oh, how I wanted to fall out hearing Edward's lazy voice approach me from behind. What was he up to?  
Amun's eyebrows, the seemingly only part of him that expressed emotion, rose. "Anthony. We were looking for you as well." His gaze flicked back and forth between us. "Good to see you two putting work first."

I blushed to my roots, cleared my throat again, and stepped aside, widening the opening so Edward could stand beside me instead of behind. He didn't move.

"You know me, Barclova," Edward drawled. He picked up my hand to kiss. "I can never say no to a pretty woman."

He wasn't helping. I could only turn more red from here. I tried, vainly, to twist my fingers from his grip but he refused to let go.

I cleared my throat again.

"Did you need him? Monsieur Anthony was just leaving; he's all yours."

I led Edward forward and outside of my threshold to take off and he glared at me. I could have stuck my tongue out at him.

"Shall we go then, Anthony?"

"You go on ahead, Amun. I left something in Miss. Swan's room."

The man shrugged and departed.

"What did you forget?" I asked as he closed the door. "You didn't bring anything in here."

He faced me and stalked forward like a panther seeing its meal. "I forgot to say goodbye to my beloved." He dragged me forward with his hand splayed across my hip and leaned over me. "I'll hardly be able to concentrate on my work without a proper dismissal."

"Dismissal?" The sinuous trickle of heat down my veins had my breath coming short. His other hand found the back of my thigh, urging me ever closer to him. "I could have sworn that was exactly what I'd done by pushing you out of the room."

He shook his head and skimmed his nose over my temple, through my hair. "I said proper."

"Proper, Monsieur?"

"Mm." He pulled my face up with a cup to my jaw, his thumb painting over my bottom lip. "Proper as in, you'll be too busy thinking about me to focus on anything else for the remainder of the afternoon."

"Just the afternoon?"

"By then I'm hoping to have replaced that beautiful brain of yours with other distractions."

"Promises, Monsieur Anthony. Nothing but promises."

* * *

To Edward's dismay I couldn't afford to have him on the brain while I was working. As I always did, I took my job very seriously, real or not. There was no paperwork to be filled out, or special permissions to request for, but I made up for that with providing all I could for my employers. I wasn't the best actor, not even a good actor, so there was no performance to put on for the Company; I was just doing my job and nothing more.

The same evening, on a rather slow day of business, the Company sat around the dining hall's superior tabletop with a wine more expensive than all of the paychecks I'd ever received between their fingers and at their lips. Conversation was light, passing, as everyone in attendance already knew one another from an unsaid number of years working together, so it was simply a few good natured inquiries as to what one another had been up to as of late. I didn't expect to be needed as much here and was ready to excuse myself but many of the people in attendance stuttered their French with a heavy mix of their native languages, and with a quiet sigh I pulled the end of my chair forward where it hit the back of my thighs and settled in for assistance.

Edward was there of course, sitting quite a few seats away my opposite and just as much a participation in the conversation as anyone else, giving Royce King and his colorful stories a run for his money.

Most of what he said was lies of course, but I wondered how much of his words were the truth. He'd had a life before me, and he was off doing his own thing for a whole month not too long ago. Was he blending those times and bridging them neatly together, painting over it in blood with practiced finesse and making it look pretty? He spoke of his work in a blasé tone, waving his hand when mentioning the need to kill someone as if it were inconsequential and throwing his arm over the back of his chair and closing his eyes at the conclusion of his tale.

I listened just as raptly as the others because Edward had a knack for wrapping an audience about his dexterous fingers, even unconsciously. He made death sound easy, almost peaceful with his calm, melodic voice, and I could almost skip over the fact that our worlds were in two completely diametric orbits.  
Something long forgotten in me, something offshore but familiar tickled the back of my skull. As if it were a physical touch I deftly raised my fingers to feel the spot through my hair. I felt nothing, and it continued to flit about.

Because Edward was so tidy with his words he hadn't forgot to mention me in his story, of bumping into the struggling dirty girl in France and lending a helping hand in exchange for translating services.

The idea was not so far-fetched to the others as apparently hiring strays, people with no history on him or themselves, was something Edward was known to do. There were no traces left that way. He'd employed me with a phone call a few months following our meeting.

"So, Isabella." Victoria turned her feline gaze in my direction and everyone else followed suit. "What is your origin, darling? Here you are in the midst of our little family when we know nothing about you." She steepled her bejeweled fingers and rested her chin on them, tilting her head. My back stiffened.

"My blood is from Israel," I said evenly, because that's what Carmen taught me to say.

"Mmm, is that right? It's no wonder you're so pretty; the Israeli breed the best of our women. Your parents?"

"Dead."

"How?"

"Petty robbery."

"You were well off?"

"Not in the least."

"Siblings?"

"I am an only child."

"And any other family?"

"I did not know them."

"But you are American borne?"

"Yes."

"Interesting." She paused the interrogation to sip at he flute, her eyes never leaving mine. The air waving off of her reeked of hostility, strong and pungent. "Have you been in Paris long? What is your translating experience?"

"Not long. I flew over after a bit of college study and took up an odd job or two before finding a company that dealt with translation affairs. I've been with them for three years."

"And then you ran into our little Eddie boy here," she purred.

That cold, trickling sensation that had begun bleeding downward since Victoria first turned to me seemed even colder still. The joints that connected my limbs to the rest of me were hot in contrast, and every pair of eyes that watched me made my skin crawl hotly.

It felt hostile.

"Somewhere along the way," I shrugged.

It didn't help that the most familiar of the eyes on me burned the hottest. No, I couldn't act, but I did know common sense. If I actively ignored his presence like I wanted to I'd look as obvious as a firecracker in a silent neighborhood. I glanced to him sideways, not looking away too quickly but also not overextending contact. It was hidden very, _very_ well in that hard mask of his but the amusement that danced on the edge of his irises made me want to punch something.

"Enough." Felix cleared his throat gruffly, as if the tension had physically manifested itself within him, and laid his open palms down on the oak table. I did my best not to jump at the sound of his voice, but how loud it was combined with how he himself manifested out of nowhere made it almost impossible. When had he entered the hall? I hadn't heard or saw of him the entire day, and then he was rather too large of a fellow to miss coming through the door. His silence reminded me of Edward - no footsteps, no sound, no warning, but always there. "We've had plenty of time for chitchat. It's time to get back to business."

I almost sagged with relief.

"We really have anything more to discuss at this point?" Victoria said with an arched brow. "Without Christos here we're getting nowhere!"

"Just this once I agree with the She-Devil," Santiago added haltingly, but not without difficulty. "We have... blast it. Swan, _sei__assistenza_." I did my best to translate his very broken English into something sensible.

"Of course. Monsieur says, 'There really is nothing left to say without Christos around. Not quite sure what in good graces is taking the man so long to weigh in but I don't like it. Who does he think he is, keeping us all waiting like this? Are we not all industrious businessmen ourselves? I demand a rescheduling.'"

"Easy now, Santiago," Felix contested. "If we give him a day or so more–"

Amun clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Another day? We've given him four already. It's disrespectful to have us waiting this long as it is. Santiago is right – if Christos has no intention of showing up, reschedule."

There was very little else to be said. The rumble of affirmation that came from 'round the Company was answer enough - this was a mutual opinion. I looked to all the stern faces around me, then eventually landed on Edward's. He hid everything so well, but there was displeasure in his features. Felix was also looking a little more than upset about the mutiny.

"Well that settles that then," came Baron Royce's jovial voice. He turned up his wrist to view his watch. "It's just twenty after the hour so let's everyone return to our rooms in preparation for drinks at eight to celebrate conclusion to the weekend. I suspect no one will remain after noon tomorrow so everyone should attend, yes? Then I shall see you all at eight."

* * *

I didn't have to wait long for the knock on my door that I was expecting, and as I opened it in anticipation of my visitor I was more than a little taken aback to see Victoria standing there, all beauty and coif.

"Mademoiselle," I said in greeting, showing nothing. "Do you need me?"

"Have I ever?"

"I suppose not. What can I help you with then?"

"Not much. I just came to let you know that I don't like you."

"Forward of you."

"Mm. I'm sure you already knew that though. And I know you don't like me either."

"If you say so."

She grinned. "I am _very _onto you, my dear. Your story seems solid enough but it isn't seamless. It only takes five minutes and a phone call to have your entire history on paper and have you disposed of, you know."

"I'm sure," I smiled back.

She laughed. "You're cocky. I like that, but don't underestimate me just because you have Anthony on your side, _fille._ There are more than a few people here who can't wait to see you rotting in the ground and obviously I'm one of them."

I nodded, because I had nothing to say.

"That's all I came for really. I like to make where I stand clear, much like that idiot Santiago; but I have much more tact than he so I did it in private."

"Thank you for letting me know."

She laughed again, throwing her head back, and I was glad she had closed her eyes because a sneer marred my expression before I could tame it. I was calmly neutral when she contained herself.

"Ciao then, Ms. Swan."

"Mademoiselle Victoria."

I leaned against the door heavily after closing it and huffed, and the air hadn't finished leaving my lungs before another knock sounded against my back. I turned to open the door, expecting someone else to want to express their opinion to me, and this time it was actually who I had been waiting for.

He stood looking to the ground, hands resting on his hips with his suit jacket pushed back behind him by the elbows. It was a moment before his eyes flew up to meet mine, and another before he rushed himself into the room and cupped my jaw in one of his hands, closed the door with the other and held me to him as he scrutinized my face.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," I replied, and it was only half a lie.

"You look upset. What did she say to you?"

"You saw?"

"I see everything where you're concerned. Answer me."

"Just the standard catty girl-talk, marking of the territory; you know how it is."

"No, actually, I don't. But you do know that I dislike being lied to."

I lifted my dangling arms to shape my hands around his and gently pry them off of me to step back and give us a bit of space. "I'm fine," I said again, "and I mean it."

He didn't argue but I could see that he wanted to.

"So what now?" I asked. "You heard what happened earlier. What are we going to do next?"

That seemed to take the fight out of him, but now he kind of looked...empty, drained even. Concern knit my brow, and he reclaimed that step of space between us to hold my cheek again, still silent.

"Edward?"

"We..." he sighed, and my spine straightened.

"Edward? What's wrong?"

He shook his head and bent to press his mouth to mine chastely, then ran his thumb over my lower lip with another sigh. "Sit down," he finally said. "Let's talk."

I stiffened.

He rolled his eyes. "Not that kind of talk, _sotte._ We need a new gameplan, don't we? Go. Sit."

I toed off the expensive cream heels and crawled up the bed to cross my legs against the headboard, still shaking off the round of creeps I'd gotten from Edward's crypticness. He sat at the desk he seemed to favor.

"Damn Christos. This is the second time we've had to change plans for him, as if we don't all have our own lives."

"This guy must be important if you have to delay so much to fit to his calendar." I recalled the talk I had with Carlisle back in Volterra, about the tiers of Edward's underground business and who was on top. Everyone in the Company believed that I wouldn't be able to read between the lines but when you knew the premise of what was going on it wasn't too hard to decipher that the trade of chickens and goats was code for shipping RPG's and M4's to wanting "farmers". As much talk as what had already gone on so far I had to wonder what more the missing party had to include. This Jimmy Christos, the one who stood above Aro on the tiers, must have been like the president of illegality.

"He would believe he is but trust me, he's no more important than anyone else."

"I've got the gist of what this retreat is about but could you explain it a little simpler for me?"

"What did I tell you about curiosity, _chere_?"

"Yeah, yeah, dead cats and all that. Just tell me."

"It's just plans of trade – who gets what and when – and redivision of territory."

"Explain?"

"As in if I have a certain set of customers who want to buy my product and you show up and encroach upon my business with something similar, we're bound to have a problem, right? Well every now and then we get a few additions to the game and need to revise who works where and who needs to give up some of their land."

"That sounds very...organized...for a crime syndicate."

"We're not _complete_ savages, you know," he smirked.

"So what all has been decided so far? How much is left that this whole meeting has to happen yet again for a third time?"

Another sigh, this one more harsh. "That's the problem. No matter how much we discuss it we can't work out a fair deal that everyone can be pleased with without rehashing Christos's territories, which can't be done if he isn't fucking here. Not without causing complications at least."

"You seem stressed," I noted.

"I am," he confirmed, "but I can't let that affect me too much."

"Have you been sleeping?"

He chuckled once, as if he was surprised by my question. "I don't sleep much anyway."

"Well that's probably your problem. You're only human, Edward. Your body needs rest even if you don't think so."

"You don't say."

"Come here, smart ass. Even I needed a nap after earlier this afternoon. Just rest for an hour or so. We don't need to be downstairs for a while so, please, come here."

This sigh was gentle and made my heart stutter a bit. "It isn't right when you beg me," he said as he stood to clamber onto the bed. It was amazing that even doing so carelessly he made the act look graceful. He lay in front of me then hooked his arm around my waist and rested his head in my lap, cheek nuzzling my thigh.

I rolled my eyes. "You can't sleep like that."

"I can try."

"Edward."

"Alright, alright." He released me to roll over and shone those gorgeous deep green eyes at me with a devilish crooked grin. I think I felt my heart actually stop this time. "Much better, don't you agree?"

I smiled shyly and ran my hand through his hair a few times, watching him watch me.

"I really want to kiss you right now," I confessed quietly, and Edward's gaze went from warm to scorching in half a second.

"Then kiss me, _idiote_."

I shook my head. "Nope, because if I make even one move toward you you'll pounce, and then you'll never go to sleep."

"Screw sleep," he growled.

"No," I said more firmly. "Now shut up so I can watch you, for God's sakes."

Luckily for me he didn't close his eyes immediately. In fact, we'd spent upwards of fifteen minutes just staring at each other and holding back childish grins as we touched each other's cheeks, eyelids, foreheads, mouths. I honestly did want to kiss him, but abstaining was probably one of the best decisions I ever made because our intimate moments were rare and few in between which made this one all the more special.

He eventually fell asleep, and even after he did I didn't look away from him, I didn't stop roving my fingers through his colorful strands, I didn't take back the hand that he had trapped in his bear-like grip. After a while I fell asleep myself, and upon awaking, blessedly, he was still far gone.

I yawned, then wormed my way from under Edward with every attempt not to wake him up.

He got up anyway.

I was leaned over the edge of the bed, mostly twisted onto my back, halfway onto my side, when I felt Edward grab onto my wrist. I probably looked ridiculous but somehow he always managed to ignore things like that.

"Where are you going?" He made groggy sound sexy as hell.

"Bathroom. Something to eat."

His eyebrow rose. "You're looking for something to eat in the bathroom?"

"Smart. Ass. No. I'm not. I'm going to the bathroom, then I'm going to get something to eat."

"I'll go with you," he said starting to get up, and I flipped onto my stomach so I could hold him down by the shoulder.

"I'm a big girl, dude. I can go myself."

"Dude?"

"Shut up. I don't need a babysitter so go back to sleep. Please"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I said, and I put my face close to his with the mentality to put my mouth against his but something stopped me.

Whether it was because he was too tired to care or because he was just going to accept that I withdrew he nodded once and turned so his body was facing the door, crossing his arms over his chest but remaining lied down.

"I'm going to watch this door until you come back, so if you really want me asleep you should hurry it up, sweetheart."

My frown was deep and disapproving, but I didn't plan on being gone for too long as it was so I agreed, hurried in and out of the bathroom, and waved goodbye to the stubborn ox on my bed as he watched me leave.

It was only five, and the beauty of a French winter was truly something to envy as the setting sun's reflection splayed across the blue-green sea and sparkled against the horizon with the swirl of soft oranges and hot pinks as a backdrop. I wanted to swoon but I doubted it was possible on an empty stomach.

As I suspected the kitchen was empty at this hour with everyone off and doing their own thing, and the cooks didn't show up to prepare dinner for another hour so it was unlikely that I would run into anyone. With dinner just a little while away I didn't want to spoil it by having anything heavy so I opted for snacks to stay on the light side. There was a bit to choose from, but I decided on two fresh pears to keep me sated, and I picked up three but I kept telling myself that it was for Edward in case he wanted one.

Regardless of Edward's threat to wait for me I took my time walking back, stopping to look out of the windows that led onto the back deck, to admire the gardens and sneak out to the front for a breath of air.

Heading back up the stairs and to my wing I heard Felix's deep, muffled voice a little ways away. When he paused there was no other voice accompanying his so I deduced he was in the middle of a phone call.

"They all intend to leave tomorrow actually," I think I heard him say, "since the main player has yet to show up."

I slowed my walk to an almost crawl.

"No, sir, no one's left yet, but I can't guarantee that someone won't later on … Yes. Yes. All of them. Yes, the translator as well."

My steps fumbled.

"Y – One second, sir. I heard something."

_Oh, fuck me._

_Alright, be casual, Swan. It's just a mountainous brute coming to crush your lungs for listening in on his conversation. You can be casual. _

I continued on my way towards my wing when I heard Felix's heavy footsteps pound the stone floor behind me, and then he called out to me, to which I turned and smiled modestly, wiping any mess that might have been on my mouth. I'd rather I die with dignity.

"What are you doing out here, Ms. Swan? I believe we agreed on dinner at eight."

_Well excuse me for getting hungry. _"Ah, yes, I was aware but," –I shrugged– "my stomach called and I couldn't wait apparently."

"Apparently," he muttered, and I wanted to kick his nuts into his throat. "Well do try to adhere to the meal schedule, please. The last thing we need is food going to waste."

I speared my tongue into the pocket of my lower lip and nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll remember that next time." I turned to walk away.

"You should be more careful around this wing next time, as well, Miss Swan. As it is further back in the chateau than the other wings it is much more secluded. If you were to get into trouble back here no one would hear you scream."

My breath caught in my throat, and I was entirely sober now. I didn't turn to meet his eyes.

I didn't have to. He knew very well that he'd gotten his message across.

I chuckled anyway, breaking the tension, easing my nerves. "I think I'm resilient enough that if I somehow managed to break my ankle over here I'd make it out, I'm sure."

"Oh, I wasn't referring to you hurting yourself. I was referring to the people around you, the people here. They are all very dangerous people, I assure you, Miss Swan."

I looked at him over my shoulder, then pivoted on my heel slowly as I observed him head to toe. He had no weapons on him, but he was big enough that he would hardly need one against me. My eyes froze on his hands that lay at his sides. They were big, ugly hands with dark hairs coming out the knuckles, hands that had seen more than their share of dirty work of both the legal and illegal nature. What was he getting at? What was the point of him saying this to me? I was starting to very much regret not taking Edward up on his offer to come with me. I felt like a deer in the eyes of a mountain lion, vulnerable and completely unsafe in every way.

"Dangerous, monsieur?" I heard myself ask evenly.

"Indeed," he answered in the same tone, if not admonishingly.

"Like Monsieur Anthony for instance. He is a very charming individual for sure but you would do well to keep your distance from him. He has a knack for hurting pretty girls like you."

Again, I felt that tickle on the back of my skull once more, and this time when I raised my hand to feel the spot beneath my hair I felt a flaming heat on my skin. What the hell?

"Oh?"

"Yes, ma'am. I would feel very much responsible if you were to run into trouble during your stay here. After all, I'm in effect your employer, and I wouldn't want to see something unfortunate happen to you.

"Neither would I," I said.

"Two hours and seven minutes."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Dinner. Dinner will be in two hours and seven minutes. I will see you again soon, Miss Swan," he said turning away.

A cold chill assaulted my sleeveless arms the entire way back to my room, and I didn't mention my run in with Felix as Edward pulled me toward him after I closed the door, but I played back the encounter over and over in my head as I made heads of tails.

* * *

Dinner passed by without too much trouble. Although the plan was to be gone by tomorrow I still had to maintain my job as translator for the needing members of the company. Victoria held herself as if she'd never come to my room door that evening and Felix was the usual pensive figure he always was at the head of the table, so I acted myself as if nothing out of the usual had happened that day.

Moving into the drawing room for drinks there was a different atmosphere buzzing about the Company that hadn't been present during the meal, mainly in the entourages. A lot of them talked amongst themselves in their native tongues but whatever they were talking about was special enough to get them to attempt to communicate with other entourages regardless of the language barrier. I tried not to listen too hard but it was impossible when that was all they seemed to talk about.

"Arrived," I heard. "Finally here." "Him and four others." "More handsome than the rumors." "His pawns as well." "Smacked of rich." "Stuck up." "Pretentious."

What annoyed me was that I was hearing all of this in more than a couple of languages, so a small tension headache was forming in my temples, but none of them would say a name to go with the gossip. I was only left to believe that the guest of honor had finally showed up and would be joining us very soon.

To confirm my thoughts, about half an hour into the parlor room social, Edward pulled me aside and whispered that everything was back on track. The famed Christos was finally in the building.

I was two wine glasses into the evening when a pregnant silence descended upon the room. Even the elegant Ms. Charlotte whom I had been chatting with lapsed mutely. As I turned to the entrance to see where everyone's attention had shifted my lungs shriveled up into nothing. My stomach dropped. My knees shook, eyes watered, fingers clenched around the stem of my glass as my ex-fiancee James strolled into the room with Jacob Black on his heels.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I...guys... There's no way in hell I'm wrapping this up without coming full circle. Just one more, my loves! One more!

I'll see you next time!


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35: We All Fall Down

It was a miracle that I was still vertical, and even moreso that I hadn't crushed the glass in my hand my grip was so tight.

I blinked twice. My throat was thick and heavy with a trapped noise I couldn't quite identify seeing that I was, in fact, seeing what was really there, in all of its impossible, improbable and completely fucked up glory.

That James, my allegedly dead ex-fiancée was here with his murderer, my ex-best friend Jacob, at his side. But there was entirely too much air in my lungs, and an impressive weight had settled in the back of my skull and settled there, pressing against my spine.

And then as if I'd just regained my senses I spun on my heel, turning my back to the phenomenon that approached. At Charlotte's curious gaze I mouthed that I was going to the bathroom, and although it wasn't the smoothest exit it would have to be good enough. I wasn't an idiot. If he was who the hell I thought he was then there was no way he wouldn't recognize me as well...that they _both_ wouldn't have recognized me.

Why's and how's were beyond me, and the sheer impossibility of my situation caused a startled, shaky breath of a laugh to sail past my dry lips. At the press of hot tears behind my eyes I sped up my gait until I was in a half-walk-half sprint, the clack of my heels vivifying the dead, gray stones around me.

Dead.

Like _he_ was.

Like he was _supposed_ to be.

There was no mistaking what I'd seen that day, no mistaking the memory of hearing the sickeningly hollow sound of James' dead body hitting the floor or forgetting Jacob's eyes light up like sparks as blood seeped beneath his soles...

A vertiginous wave passed over me as I careened into the wall for a moment to get my bearings. Thankful for the small blessings, I was glad the hall was empty and that I could have my breakdown to myself without needing to explain why I was huddled on the ground. I leaned into the cold stone, my eyes closed and chin tucked down as I crouched in on myself.

So how was his ghost here— of all places—dressed more than a little extravagantly and smiling, smugly, halfway across the world looking anything but deceased?

"Bella?"

My head snapped up just as Edward strut towards me, his posture stiff and alert. I climbed to my feet numbly and wound one arm around his neck, the other around his back as my chest met his. He said my name again, his voice laced with restrained concern as he put his hands to my waist, and I shook my head into his jacket, both telling him that the hallway was not the place for this and soaking my tears into his charcoal suit-jacket.

Once he'd ushered me back into my quarters he slammed the door shut and pointed in the direction of the bed as he moved to hang his jacket on the back of the desk's chair.

"Start talking, beginning to end and don't skip a thing." His voice was hard, dangerous, as if he was ready to step out of this room guns ablaze if he had to.

"I actually don't know where to start." I cleared my throat. My voice was hoarse and cracked, and Edward poured the small kettle of water on my end table into a glass chalice to hand to me.

"I was only gone for ten minutes, Isabella. There shouldn't be that much to say."

A lot could happen in ten minutes, I thought bitterly. The rising of the dead returning to haunt you and turn your world on its ass, for instance.

"Where were you?" I demanded, wrapping my arms around myself to trap the heat that I just couldn't keep.

"Recon," he answered tersely. "Talk."

I shook my head and mumbled my words unintelligibly.

"What?" he snapped.

"I said I can't!"

He worked the pad of his finger into the corner of his eye and sighed, frustrated. What was up his shorts?

"What's wrong with you?"

"I don't have time for this, Isabella. I can't help you if you don't help me."

I scowled. "So you don't have time for me now?"

"Not when I'm working, no." I felt more than saw Edward's irritation with me as he sat beside me, as he leaned forward to look up into my face while I remained silent.

I flinched inwardly, ashamed of how weak I felt, and looked down at my lap, suddenly very interested in the rivulets of the water in my cup. A swarm of butterflies settled in my stomach and my throat felt tight thinking through my explanation. I couldn't get the words out, no matter how much I willed my mouth to move. A cold bead of sweat rolled down my temple as my lips shook with the effort, and each of my limbs felt heavy like worn stone.

"Hey," he murmured, and my eyes flit to his. There was a cauldron's worth of warmth there; his face was more relaxed in an effort to reassure me. I appreciated that, and the words finally came to.

"James isn't dead." My expression was clear as blue water but it was like being hit with a wrecking ball, right in the chest, hearing the words aloud. My breath deepened.

Edward's eyebrows knit together. "Your ex?"

I nodded.

"Who Jacob killed?"

"Jacob is here too."

His mouth mashed into one hard angry line, and then his eyes widened minutely, searching my own for the confirmation of what was boxing in his head as they delved.

"You...You're ex is Jimmy Christos?"

I nodded slowly.

"And Jacob is here with him?"

Again I nodded.

Steel crept around the edges of his jaw and his gaze turned abruptly cool as he straightened and stood.

"Is that all, then?"

"Yes." It was my turn to be confused now. "What should I do?"

Something flashed in his eyes at that moment, something akin to that of someone sure of betrayal. I usually didn't have the upper hand on mind reading, but I was getting a lot of leverage today, it seemed.

"Go into the bathroom of the abandoned wing and wait there until I come get you. Don't talk to anybody. Don't look for anybody. Don't look for me. Just wait."

"Edward?" I called as he swung the door open. His grip on the edge of it tightened.

"Yeah?"

I went to his front and touched my fingertips to his knuckles. As expected he flexed. I curved my hand around his lax one instead, staring up at him until he slid his icy eyes from over my head unto mine.

"Stop thinking what you're thinking," I said, and even I was surprised at the ascendancy in my tone. "I know exactly what's running through that cynical head of yours and I'm telling you right now - stop. All we've been through..."

"Could be a lie."

"But it's not," I blistered, "so stop."

He looked up into the hallway again, and I mentally prepared myself for a fight. Instead he pulled me back into the room, shut the door and stared me down with his arms on either side of my head. I shrunk, but he was a pretty intimidating character when he was in a mood.

"How can you prove to me that this wasn't a set up from the beginning, then?"

"I -"

"Don't you think this all just a bit too coincidental? You happen to stumble into my base of operations, Jacob shows up shortly thereafter, and your supposedly dead fiancé is the man that I'm after and have been after for years now. Read that back to me; how's that sound?"

I hesitated and he smile sardonically at me. Shit...

"Obviously it sounds...less than believable but...hell, we've been side by side for three— "

"Two."

"— months. Okay, excluding your disappearance, which was for and caused by you, on all accounts, might I mention."

"I was undercover for a full two years once. You think a couple of months is even worth blinking at to me?"

"How about the fact that I haven't had outside contact with the world in months, huh? How would they know how things would turn out? You brought me here!"

"We're pretty resourceful, people like me."

"How about the fact that you're standing here discussing this with me, then...instead of shooting me in the head like I know you would if you didn't believe me?" I shaped my hands over his tense jaw and cheekbones as I spoke, smoothing away the hard lines for my own sake.

It was more than gratifying to feel him melt beneath me. "How do you know I'm not planning to when you least expect it?" His hands fisted on the wall beside me but his tone had come down from accusatory, and went even lower to the sultry regions that I loved. I inched closer.

"How do you know I wouldn't give you hell for even holding a gun to me?"

His tilted head lowered so we were leveled with each other, and I wondered if I would ever get over how inhuman he looked. "How do you know you'll have time to?"

"How do you know I won't be prepared?"

"Because the Isabella I know wouldn't be."

I shrugged. "That's not a theory I'm willing to test."

"Hmm." His lips brushed mine. "Let's come back to this later. The thought of undercover-assassin Bella makes me harder than I can possibly express. But one kind of Bella is more than enough for me."

My voice dropped to match his and I curled a hand into the hair at his nape. "Then which Bella do you want me to be right now?"

His answer released the butterflies from their cage and stopped my heart in its relentless beat:

"Be my Bella," he whispered, and I didn't give myself time to process anything. One second he was caressing the curve of my lip with a dark glare and the next my body was sandwiched between cold wall and 6 foot 2 inches of carnal lust.

The strength and heat of him was overwhelming as his large hand cradled the back of my neck and his other yanked my right leg up over his hip. His mouth meshed with mine angrily, sultrily, and at my exhale his tongue found mine to touch, taste and tease with unmatched finesse.

We were adults. We knew exactly what we wanted and needed no pretense to achieve just that.

As he leaned over to set the lock of the door I scrambled with the zipper and button of his pants. My fingers tripped over each other in their haste, and with a slight smirk Edward maneuvered around my hand to assist me. I had him out of the prison of his briefs the same time he'd pushed the skirt of my dress up and moved my panties to one side, and the ripping of the stitches was kindly ignored as he slid the length of his cock up and down my inner thigh temptingly. I moaned, impatient but accepting the tease, and he tilted my chin up to lay hot, tormenting kisses upon me. That the kiss was slow made it no less aggressive, no less bruising. The slight pain, his rough touch, was the assurance I needed to know that my body would not fly away with the high I felt while with this man. I was probably crushing him to hold him to me, and his fingers dug into my hips with piercing strength.

When we were like this, naked in the most intimate terms and together, everything else just faded out into that blurred bubble that hovered so very far away from us, away from our world, so we were the only ones there.

As Edward pulled me down onto him there was no Marcus or Victoria or Aro. James wasn't just a floor below us and Jacob wasn't sniffing around where he didn't belong.

"Bella," he sighed. "Always wet for me." The rumble of his voice vibrated through me. I opened my eyes, and there was nothing between us but that dark heat that I needed, that I craved. He withdrew slowly, so slowly, and with a sharp thrust he filled me again. My mouth opened but no sound came out. My toes curled near painfully as my fingers found purchase in his hair and the sleeve of his shirt.

He leaned forward to tease my lips with whispers of a kiss, and the movement buried him even further within me. I whimpered, begging him, and he simply smiled and ground his hips into mine. I felt him everywhere and I still needed more of him. Another pitiful sound escaped me.

"Take what you want of me, _bellisima_. I am yours if only for now," he whispered. His hand flit up my hip to splay across the expanse of my lower back, holding me.

He was playing with me. A very dark, very patient game with the agenda of coaxing me as he moved in and out of me in slow, shallow circles, his eyes black and smoldering, waiting for me in that mysterious intendment that only we two understood. The tension in his body dared me, his hands encouraged me, his sensual mouth guided me, and his dilated pupils took in my every reaction to his every touch.

He was waiting for me to join him in the realm of lovers. And I wanted nothing but to oblige him. Only with this man could an unexpected quickie, something normal and common, turn into a dance of the flesh, which was always an ethereal experience.

Nevertheless, I accepted his challenge.

With only the briefest hesitation that I was positive his Excellency had noticed, I wrenched myself forward so our chests aligned, gasping at the internal shift this caused, and wrapped around Edward like a hungry vine in need of nourishment. My lips hovered above his for a moment, unsure, but at the flex of his hand on my back I met him with the candle to set off our fuse.

His mouth was warm and slick, smooth and dangerous as it nipped, pushed, and pulled at my own. The amount of passion in the room could have drowned me. Anger had given way to a ferocious lust that sizzled and crackled and hummed between our conjoined bodies and we were eager to follow the flow of electricity to its source.

A wayward hand curled around my nape, holding me immobile as Edward's tongue explored my lower lip, before licking over it and coaxing it backward dexterously into his mouth. The other hand slipped over the curve of my bottom to give a firm squeeze and lift, and I barely noticed the cool of the wall once more at my back as he rocked into me, harder, more forceful than he had minutes prior.

"Yes," I hissed, as his hips bore into me with amazing awareness. "Yes. Edward."

"For you, _bellisima_," he murmured against me, his drive relentless, his great, dark eyes fixated on me and only me, as if I was the center of his world, his universe, his everything. "I am for you."

"Yes."

His mouth engulfed my moan heatedly before falling to my chin as he panted warm, moist breaths against my throat. I could feel his lips move ever slightly as he whispered tiny utterances made only for my skin to hear. I wrapped my legs tightly around him as he worked his fabulous cock over any and every inch of me intimately that had yet to be discovered with his own eyes.

"Made for me," I thought I could make out from his silent prayer. "Made only for me, _bellisima_. Give yourself to me. Come for me, Bella."

I buried my teeth into the salty skin of Edward's neck as my orgasm roared through me, powerful and almighty. My eyes rolled back into my head as waves of hot tremors shook me to the core, and I folded my body around his in hopes I wouldn't be spirited away for feeling that of which was not of this world.

My ears were deaf to the torrent of Italian that poured from Edward's curved mouth as he continued to find his release in me. It was like eavesdropping from beneath a waterfall on the cliff overhead— everything was heard through a filter.

But I was jolted aware as long fingers found the mound of my sex hidden beneath a sparse of curls. I was just sensitive enough to flinch at his initial ministrations but not sensitive enough not to groan as another swell of pleasure emblazoned my womb.

"Edward," I panted.

"No, kitten, shh." He kissed me softly, his hand shaping over my jaw and stroking slowly, reverently. "Come for me just once more, my Bella." The tip of his nose shifted my hair aside as his tongue danced over my cheek, flirted with it. "Grant me that."

"Ungh..." I couldn't form coherent thoughts when he was still pushing inside of me, slower now, his pelvis brushing mine with every upward stroke, his hips in synch with the circling of his fingers on my clit. I almost tore through the flesh of my lower lip.

"Edward."

"Do you feel that? That electric pull between us?"

"Yes," I answered his husky growl.

"I know you do." He kissed the corner of my mouth. "I also know you felt the rise and shift of tension between us as primal fucking turned to worship-like love making, no? And you felt it when all things worldly faded away as I entered you, didn't you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"I want to give that to you every time I lay eyes on you, my Bella," he whispered, and with the increase of his heart beats came the increase of pressure on the swollen nub he rubbed at, of his timely strokes that were angled too finely to keep my hips from rocking to receive him. "Every time you breathe. Every time you touch me."

His lips caught mine tightly, angrily, before he pulled away to put those same wet lips to my ear, his breathing wild and ragged.

"I can feel every delectable inch of your body on mine, _bellisima_." He groaned. "You've come three times now. I've felt you squeeze me close each time. And I still can't have enough of you. I want to keep you under me always, my Bella. You're safe with me, sweetheart, while danger surrounds you."

I exhaled loudly as I interlocked his mouth with mine, my hand fisting in the tangled mass of his hair as I let Edward's haunting words cage my heart.

I unearthed all of the pleasures that could be gained by my black angel of hell: The sweetness of his breath; the pure eroticism that could be found in his animalistic growls as he indulged in his baser instincts, as he drew that pleasure from me; the satin of his beautiful skin over the steel of his incredible body.

The limp fingers of my free hand that rested weakly on his shirt sleeve trailed up the column of his neck, over the sharp but smooth edge of his jaw. I caressed the soft sculpt of his sinuous lips leisurely, holding closely to the rubber band that threatened to pop any moment now, because when it popped we would be transported back to real life, back to pain and anger and lies and betrayal. I wanted to be here forever.

But there was so little chance that I would last any longer than I had.

He was pitiless as he went for his release after all this time, finally pleased that he'd pleased me so well, pinning me to the wall with pounding thrusts on my lower half that filled the room with the dirty slaps of wet flesh on flesh. I'd given up on being quiet long ago as I writhed beneath him, guiding him to the place he'd taken me to over and over. I licked across his collar and up his throat, laid a kiss on his bulging Adam's apple, and kissed across the blade that was his jaw unto his ear. I toyed with his ear lobe, alternating between telling him how wonderful he felt and sweeping my tongue around the shell before settling on his lips and swallowing his groans.

His brow was knit with intense concentration, and I could see that he wanted to withhold as much as I had. I dropped a hand to cover his over my sex and latched my teeth onto his lower lip as we circled my clit as one. I was as wild as he now, bucking against him, giving back just as much as I took, and I froze with a strangled cry as my body pulsed with yet another climax.

He came with me this time.

With a final thrust he finished inside of me, groaning and panting into my neck as he wrapped his arms around my back and held me to him, another long string of curses prayed into my skin.

Minutes had passed before we released one another, and he kissed me tenderly as my feet touched the ground, his hand keeping my skull secure in his grip until he pulled away to gaze into my eyes. The heat in that look made my heart constrict.

I leaned against him heavily, and he let me, ever the gentleman as he readjusted my dress and smoothed my hair into something sensible. He wanted to take me into the bathroom to clean me up but with a shake of my head and another kiss to his mouth I left him to himself in my room, making my way to the abandoned wing with weightless steps.

...

My body was very much in need of a nap. Luckily the water ran over on this side of the building so I'd cleaned up myself, but I couldn't even pace around the smallish bathroom because I was exhausted in the most delicious way.

I found it amazing how Edward could just entirely clear my mind with so little effort. The man that I was once betrothed to, whom I was sure was absolutely dead, was within walking distance with Jacob Black himself, and the only thing I could think about was the look in Edward's eyes as he attended to me.

Well, little effort was the wrong way to put how he'd handled me.

I'd felt precious in his arms as he held me back there, like he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. To feel him drop his barriers as easily as he did made my heart hurt and my head swim.

I didn't want to dwell on the subject too much right then, but I needed something to distract myself from how eerie this section of the building was. The floors were solid concrete as well as the walls, and what sparse collection of lights there were that hung from the ceiling were far and few in between, and I would rather have stayed here the rest of the night than walk back through that concrete hell.

What'd made the hall so...chilling...to walk by was the stench that clung to the air, the smell of blood and death and decay centered especially close to the blackened connecting corridor. I'd felt eyes on my back as I passed it, which made me want to sprint right the hell out of there.

With my butt firmly planted on the lid of the cold toilet seat, I chewed the nail of my thumb waiting patiently for Edward to come for me.

I was down to the cuticle when a quick rap sounded on the heavy wood.

I called out, then touched the toilet handle to make that I was using the bathroom convincing in case it wasn't who I thought it would be. I was somewhat impatient as I ran the water for effect - I was in dire need of some tall and deathly handsome security detail being in this concreted and metal piped hell.

Opening the door, I was quickly ceased and made immobile, my arms constrained and contorted painfully as a hand hooked beneath my jaw and held my mouth sealed. I didn't struggle - I was too shocked to, and by the time I realized what was where I was already far, far too slow.

...

Another slap whipped my head to the side as the sound of abused flesh reverberated mutedly off of concrete. I inhaled a shuddered breath through my teeth, hoping the air would keep my vision from bouncing around as it did. I was beginning to see double. Especially of how much concrete was in this room. More and more damned concrete.

There was no echo to be heard. The sound was quick and sharp, as if it held little to no force behind it, but my bruised cheek said otherwise as another hand came across my face. I exhaled this time, ignoring the taste of blood that covered my tongue.

A blurred figure crouched down in front of me, its head tilted.

"You're tougher than you used to be. I recall you falling down the second the wind blew."

"Fuck. You."

I was struck yet again, and this time I groaned and let my head fall back as the pain branched and pulsed into what I imagined was an angry hand print.

The figure held a hand up.

"This attitude of yours is also quite new to me as well, Bella. It's sexy. We'd have fucked much more often if I'd seen this side of you."

I faced the dark corner to my right.

A moist hand tugged my chin around so I stared up into cold, dark eyes. The feel of his skin made my stomach pull but I didn't give him the satisfaction of recoiling.

"You miss me?" The figure cooed.

I couldn't have possible drawn out antagonizing this man or any of his lackeys any further without endangering myself. "Yes," I heard my voice say.

"Yes what?" Something solid and cool touched the back of my skull. I tensed.

"Yes, James."

He stroked my chin with a pouted look. "Oh, I know you did, baby. I missed you, too. Give me a kiss."

He leaned toward me and it was impossible not to shift at the nearness of his poised mouth. He smelled cheap and stifling. I looked away immediately; my jaw tense as he placed several open-mouthed kisses on my face.

The gun behind me pressed harder.

"Easy there, Cole. She's just a little shy to see me after so long. Isn't that right, beloved?"

"I suppose I'm not entirely forthcoming around ghosts, no," I muttered as response.

James eyed me curiously. "Ghost?" he inquired innocently, then he looked around the room and laughed as his serpent eyes fell on me once more. "Oh, you were talking about me.

"But I suppose I can't be decreed a ghost if I was never dead."

I glared at his proximity, and if my arms were free I would have gripped hold of his ponytail and flung him against something. Preferably, something made of concrete.

"Hey now, that's not the look of confused juvenile love that I'm used to. All grown up, are we?" His gaze moved down my body in a slow, shameless perusal. "And I know you're still in love with me so why so hostile?"

I grimaced.

"I still love you," he ventured wistfully.

"Bullshit."

"Mouth, Bells. No dirty language here. At least, not until we're alone."

"You're disgusting."

The large bear beside me lifted his hand and James stopped him with a breezy look.

"Then you're suggesting we include my friends, as well?"

"When I'm cold and dead," I offered in the same tone."

"How about if we let your boyfriend join us, hmm? Would that please you, elf?"

My spine straightened and my teeth snapped audibly. I cursed Jacob to the deepest, darkest, most wretched pits in all of hell in the back of my mind.

"Ah, keeping your mouth shut about him, are you? More's the pity. I would have loved to hear about him from you. Like how good it felt for him to take you like a whore out in the hall, and then again just a few hours ago, in your room.

"Yes, I know all about that, baby. I know. But I forgive you, because I love you and we still have some making up to do."

"Bullshit," I called again, because now he was beginning to piss me off.

Something dark flashed across his unremarkable features before he quelled it and held his hands in front of him. Then he watched me for a very long moment, not saying anything.

"Last time, Bells. Language. I understand you're less than happy with your...situation, but you are a woman, not a barbarian. Keep yourself in check or I'll have to."

I almost spit on his too-pointy shoes.

He sighed. "Since it doesn't look like we'll be getting along any better down here, what say you we head back to the party? And this time I'll wear you on my arm, where you belong."

Nothing repulsed me more, but I had so very little choice, so as James made his rounds about the occupants of the chateau, I kept my hand firmly in the crook of his elbow, where he held me, and I ignored the prying, curious and put out faces that watched me pass as James's arm candy, ignoring the close examinations of the bruises that marred my profile, looking for any and every available avenue of escape or reprieve from his noxious presence.

For some reason my conscience absolutely refused to consider searching out Edward so I didn't even bother looking around for him. There was a seed of doubt planted within that he'd thrown me into the lion's den believing I lied to him. Thinking about it hurt more than being burned a hundred more times by Tanya's lighter so I just didn't.

Instead I dug deep down inside and chastised the Bella of my youth for her poor choice in judgment of character. Even now I knew what had drawn me to both James and Jacob. Either of them had an air of mystery and danger that attracted the Mary-Sue in me like a magnet. As a small town girl who grew up with her father's friend's kids whose grandparents knew all of your best friend's uncles and cousins and aunts as well as who all of their first kisses were, I needed an escape from the boring humdrum that was living in a Podunk neighborhood, enter Jacob fucking Black.

He wasn't any more interesting than the kids that I went to school with but, hell, he lived right next to a beach, he was attentive, and he would have dropped everything to see if I wanted to hang or if something (or someone) was bothering me.

I led him on, I know, and even now, ten very long years later I regret it, and I wish I could have just been content with my humdrum life and not sought out the accursed fruit that led me to James.

James's appeal was less about his looks (much less) and more about the security I felt near him. Jacob had become too intense with me, so I looked to James as a safe house, knowing that the two didn't get along (at least, at the time). James was well off financially, he was casual enough to bring around a group of friends, and he paid attention to me. That was all my sheltered mind needed to form the conclusion that I was in love with him. Shared opinions and traits were overrated. Long conversations were overrated. Compatibility was a myth. As long as I was comfortable I would live a happy life, so I accepted his proposal.

Having him dropped before my very eyes, though, shattered every and all notions that I could live the peaceful existence I wanted.

Jacob had come to me with a gag order shortly after the apartment was scrubbed clean of any evidence that James had ever lived there and I signed with shaking fingers because my life was much more important than James's lost one. I hadn't even felt bad about the entire encounter, I realized, which was probably why I was getting such a twisted brush of bad karma. I was more upset that the both of them had come into my life and shaken it around like a snow globe as they watched the pieces fall.

The death itself was a small excitement to be honest, and I was so disgusted with my reaction to it that I blanked the memory of it out entirely, making believable excuses as to why Jacob nor James were ever around anymore when asked. He dumped me. Jacob found a girl of his own— lies that were completely plausible and needed no further investigation.

I moved on so quickly that the abruptness of it gave me a sense of vertigo even now. I went from security in others to security in employment, throwing my entire spirit into producing top tier grades and placing honors so picking up a career in archaeology and getting right into practice would be seamless.

It was a slow climb but I'd made it. I had my degree in Anthropology, I was putting it to good use in my position as field director, and I lived moderately comfortably, all by my lonesome with my two very best friends by my side and Charlie, Renee and Phil at my back. My smile was small as I recalled my heart to heart with Esme in Volterra, how similar our work ethics (and taste in men) were.

"You off in your own little world again?" James smirked and tapped my nose with his finger.

My expression was relatively neutral, if not bored.

"How about you go and relax for a bit, Bells? Get off your feet a while. I'll swoop you up before bed so we can... better reacquaint ourselves after a long separation."

I cringed minutely as he stroked my hair and shifted the mass to one side to murmur, "And if you think about running away again or going after your little boyfriend I'll have you tied to the ceiling of my room by your beautiful neck, do you understand me?"

My eyes met his briefly before a sneer curled my lip, and I walked away briskly before he could see it. I sheltered near the arch from the parlor room leading into the dining hall, catching busboys as they passed me and relieving them of several glasses of Pinot Noir as I drank to my memories.

It would be in poor taste to reminisce my working days but fail to go over the dream gone horribly awry that was the Forks Crystal Cavern sampling and excavation. I had to believe that everything—_everything_—that I had gone through in the past few months was a result of my due cast of die in the fortune potluck. It was my penance for who I'd used to be, and for whom I had been as I stepped into that cave.

Because I was a completely different person from those other two now.

My finger was on its sixtieth revolution around the rim of my glass when a shock of bright hair caught my attention; mussed and wild and screaming of being run through by someone who was now very satisfied.

Sharp green eyes caught my cautious brown ones, and the expression that stained Edward's face as he pinned me down from across the room could only be described as murderous. I was almost sure that he was pissed that I wasn't where he told me to be, but then his eyes shot over to James who Victoria was shamelessly draping herself around as he flirted with her.

I was suddenly more than a little self-conscious; I looked down to my feet. Was my face really so messed up that he could see it from well over fifty feet away? I tipped back the rest of my drink and located another full tray to mull over. Several minutes later, with my back turned to the rest of the Company in my solitary perch at the window; I frowned as a poker-faced busboy sat yet another glass down beside my half empty one and walked away. I watched him go for a moment before unwrapping the small note taped to the stem and sliding the strategically placed short pencil under my palm.

-_Does it hurt?_ the note read. The script was tall and elegant. Pretentious, I chuckled inwardly. I scribbled my reply directly beneath his, and just as I put my head up another busboy, this one smaller in height than the last, appeared at my arm. I glanced nervously at his quick but reassuring smile, then peered back where Edward stood beside Miss Charlotte to see him nod almost imperceptibly at me as we made eye contact. I folded the note into a tiny square and sent it on its way.

It was back to me not more than two minutes later, and I had to sink my teeth into my lip to shy off the goofy, teenaged smile that almost lit up my face. I could have laughed at how ridiculous I looked— a 26 year old woman giggling as she passed notes back and forth with her...with her...well, with whatever the hell Edward was to me in the middle of a business function.

-_I suggest you talk me out of putting a bullet through your ex's forehead here and now, in case you had any last words for him._

I ducked my head and coughed to hide my mirth.

-None. Draw it out on my behalf. I'm bored. I miss you, come over.

-_Can't. They're watching me. And that's your fourth glass. I'm sending over water._

-Thanks, dad, but wine dulls out the sting.

-_Pick up another glass and I'll haul you outside for discipline. Don't test me. _

I scoffed and tossed him a look of irritation over my shoulder as I crumpled the paper and shoved it into my clutch. But I obediently opted for the water that now glistened under the heavy lighting.

So Edward hadn't cast me to the wolves. I was relieved - more than relieved. I was grateful. I was almost sure that Edward wasn't going to take any chances with me had he been suspect of my dealings with James, so he must have trusted me.

I found a seat in a living chair not far from my perch and crossed my legs. Terrence, a short, stalky fellow, part of Santiago's clique, strolled over for a rough translation and I gave him an exact one, repeating it to him more than once until he was chanting it to himself as he walked away. He sidled up next to Amun's Claire and gave her a big wolfish grin as he totally botched the entire phrase he'd worked on. I hid my smile behind my sips.

I noticed as the parlor room slowly became less and less crowded as occupants of the Company and their entourages respectively began to ascend to their rooms. The light classical score that went unheard from under the colloquy floated through the large room soothingly, aided my wine in relaxing me as I put my head back.

I didn't get to savor my enjoyment long, however, as the huge bear from earlier, Cole, wrenched my arm up until he'd pulled me out of my sitting position. He didn't release me as I thought he would, instead holding his arm out and away from him in disdain as if I were garbage. My lips thinned in irritation.

"You ready to mingle, baby?" James's smile was turned to full power as he came into my line of sight, reaching for me. I went without protest to his side but didn't look him in the eye. Hearing my new favorite pet name coming from him made me instantly dislike the word. Strange, as it was James who had been the first and at one point only one to address me as such.

My brow furrowed. "It's almost a quarter after eleven, James. No one cares to mingle with you at this hour." Especially not me.

He leaned into me with a smirk and rubbed a hand over my shoulder. "It was only going to be the two of us, babe."

I recoiled, and some higher power irrefutably saved my hide from the skinning I would have no doubt received from Cole after I slung my fist across James's face, but I froze as a cool set of hands skimmed over my rib cage and pulled me back into a hard, familiar chest.

Edward pushed a lock of hair away as he bent to put his full lips to my ear to whisper. My body reacted to him immediately, sinking back, sagging against him in only the slightest way to feel him, warm and solid, behind me.

"Easy, baby," and then he placed a fluttering kiss in my hair before standing at his full height.

James's smile wavered for only half a second. "Anthony! I was wondering when you would come over. How are you, old friend?"

Edward responded just as conversationally. "Well, and I should say the same of you. You're quite the man to get a hold of lately."

He shrugged. "Oh, you know how this business goes. You think things are going one way and they end up going another, and at that point you just have to step in to remind the involved exactly who runs the show around here."

Edward gave a polite, disinterested hum.

James finally settled on the hands still placed around me, and he lifted his glass at the sight. "What's all this? I see you have your eyes on my beloved here, eh Anthony? Immaculate, isn't she?"

"Quite. But I had no idea you were with someone, Jimmy. Congratulations are in order."

"Come now, Anthony, I know she's told you everything by now. You two have been together for...how long now? Three months? No need to be coy, we're the only ones here. In fact, you can come out now, Jacob."

I couldn't breathe. My blood was pumping too quickly, too coarsely. My skin prickled and itched and perspiration wasn't too far away. I leaned more heavily on Edward now, and the light squeeze of his fingers allowed me a light sigh to gain my bearings.

He simply stepped out of the shadows, Jacob, and though there were hints of a smirk in the uplift of his mouth his face was utterly serious. By reflex, my eyes darted to his left knee, immediately noticing the slight hobble. No cane, no crutch, no support at all. His recovery was nothing short of amazing in only a couple of months but I was hardly surprised by the resources his lifestyle provided. Hell, I should have been covered head to toe in thick pink gashes but I wasn't. But a few scratches (a few deep scratches) could hardly compare to a shattered kneecap. Jacob seemed even bigger now, brawnier, the weight of his upper body making his jean-clad legs seem thinner. I shuddered to think of what drove him to such speedy rehabilitation, and what he was thinking of at this moment with the man who'd caused the damage standing before him.

"Bella. It's nice to see you again, as always." He glanced at Edward, looking him up and down unhurriedly, and his smirk fouled into a sneer.

"Well as we're all very busy men here," Edward drawled behind me, "let's cut straight to the chase." I blanched at his wording. "What do you want, Jimmy?"

"Easy question - I want the girl."

"Anything but the girl and I'll do the best of what's in my power to provide you."

"Maybe you're not hearing me right, Eddie boy. There's no negotiation here, no barter. Give me the girl; you walk away with all appendages. Cross me..." I felt rather than saw Edward's tension rise to an all-time high.

"Perhaps we should re-enter this discussion come morning. You've had a long trip, Jimmy, and I'm sure Bella's also exhausted, although it's hard to tell with Cole's handprints in the way." I flinched.

James chuckled blackly. "That bother you, Eddie?"

He didn't rise to the bait. "It's late. Tomorrow will be rather busy and it isn't as if Bella or I will be going anywhere. Have a pleasant one, gentleman."

I allowed myself to be towed along by the upper arms, as if Edward wanted to shield me wholly from even James's vision, and I walked woodenly. None of this felt real, felt possible. How annoying, was all my brain could manage, to have to suffer as I did, to make Edward suffer because I did. Jacob alone was a force to be reckoned with. Now knowing that Jacob worked for James, I wanted to faint in misery.

We mulled about in my room now, Edward exhaling loudly and covering his face, head upturned as he paced from wall to wall slowly; and I laying on my side as I watched him, not really seeing him but aware of his every move.

Jacob had come for me in the Forks cavern all those months ago, so did that mean James had sent him knowing I was there, to kill me? Or did he only send him to search out Edward? But then, there Edward was, face to face with James, so why not get out of him what he wanted right then and there? Death, answers, or otherwise.

They'd kept this business meeting on hold for days and days, James and his posse. Was that time spent planning a hit on either of us, was it simply deciding the when and where's of out deaths that kept them? This wild goose chase we'd been on forever — it was all because of James from the get go, so now that the mice were cornered, would the cat pounce? It was all a matter of time now, and I felt like I had none.

My vision swam with tears as Edward stretched over me to put his lips to my forehead, and he pulled me into his chest as a sob disturbed the silence of the room.

I'd had him for a month and wanted nothing more than to be rid of him. Then I lost him for a month and all I wanted was to see him again. Now I stood the chance of losing him once more and the thought broke my heart. I tightened my fist in his hair to cry into his neck, inhaling the unique scent of him through hysterics and holding onto him as if he would disappear. A muscle jumped in my arms, and then in my neck, and I felt the same panic I did before I succumbed to an anxiety attack.

A soft purr of French was muttered into my skin as Edward rubbed me soothingly, and when his mouth fitted to mine in the same balming manner I was frantic.

He was under me with a rough shove to the shoulder and hardly made a sound as I tossed his jacket to the side, slung his dress shirt in a corner. I kissed and licked every inch of his beautiful torso, nipping and scratching at the flat disks of his nipples until I felt his length prodding at my thigh. I slipped through the band of his pants and grasped him, lubricating my palm with the bead of moisture that riddled the bulbous tip of his very lovely cock. I was reckless now, whispering just how much I loved this part of him, every part of him, but backing my words with the firmness of my grip, with the speed of my strokes.

Never was there a more erotic experience than hearing Edward's husky moans and sweet words in my ear, than the flash of pleasure he emitted as he moaned into my hair and dragged my hips along his thigh so I rode him. Suddenly he inhaled sharply, his sex jumping in my hand, and he pulled my hand away, holding it to his mouth to pepper with kisses from my fingertips to my wrists, all the way up to the crook of my elbow where he paused to stare straight into my eyes.

He murmured against my skin, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, _ma belle_. I swear that. Come here." He gave a firm pull until I was against him, and with gentle fingers he swept the hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear, his lips cool on my forehead.

"I know you're scared, baby."

"Yes," I whispered, and I kissed his collar as tears began to gather.

"Don't be." He hugged me closer. "I'm disgusted with myself that he had already gotten to you before I could. I should have known better...so this," he traced the shape of a hand on my cheek, "is my fault. And this," now he touched the corner of my lip, "is also on me. You won't be leaving my side for the duration of our time here, you understand? I'll sleep with you here, you'll follow me whenever you're outside the room, and we'll dine together. If you're out of my sight for even a second I'll send my boys to watch over you, and should the need arise they know that your life comes before theirs, because I said so.

"So dry your tears, sweetheart — I've got you. Just leave everything to me."

I nodded sorrowfully. He tipped my chin to kiss my cheeks and mouth, and I buried my head in his shoulder to weep quietly.

A long time passed until I my eyes dried out, and Edward held me the whole way through without saying a word, only stroking my hair and kissing my ear, my forehead, my fingers, to soothe me.

I glanced up shyly as I finished, and his beautiful crooked smile gave my heart a debilitating squeeze. It was small, almost unsure of itself, testing my reaction, and it was a glimpse at that boyish expression of his that I so rarely saw. I kissed him soundly, delighting in his smile's growth, and lay my head on his shoulder.

"Tired?" he asked after a while. "It's very late."

I nodded. "I am...but I'm not."

I could sense his furrowing brow.

"I mean...I am a little tired, but I..." I stopped to chew my lip.

"Speak," he commanded as he lifted my chin, and at my hesitation he tapped my mouth.

"I still want you," I muttered, and even though I could scarcely hear myself I knew he'd heard me loud and clear. If I had no indication before, I had it now in the building scorch of his gaze as he studied me. I was squirming after a while.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded , laying a little kiss to his collar again. "I want you."

"I want you, too." He rose up and pushed my thighs apart with his knee, leaning into me. I wrapped my arms around his back and sighed at his weight - only slightly heavy but more than comfortable.

"But are we clear in the game plan, Miss Swan?" He arched a brow at me.

"Yes — don't leave your side, I know."

He lifted my dress over my head by the hem and threw it into the floor pile where his clothes were. Then he peeled my panties down my legs at his leisure, eyes hooded and inflamed, before removing either of my shoes and massaging my insteps as they too joined the pile. I drew him back to me at once.

"It really is very late," he said, but the last thing on my mind was what time it was.

"I don't care."

He chuckled. "I know you don't. But I need you on your toes tomorrow so I'll be quick."

He kissed my pout away and held my leg up by the crook of his elbow, sinking into me with one swift motion that had my eyes in the back of my head. My moan was loud and unexpected, my sex engorging the demi-god who hovered above me while my breasts, heavy and hot, sat in his palms, nipples twisted this way and that between his long fingers as his tongue laved at my neck, my collar, my sternum, the undersides of my breasts. His thrusts were slow and deep, filling me up until our pelvises conjoined and withdrawing to the tip before grinding back into me at a maddening pace. I panted into his hair, clawing at his back and buttocks, driving him as far into me as the laws of nature allowed before I came with a sharp cry, body tensed as my womb swelled with release.

He'd pushed me over for a second time as he reached his own climax, his husky moan entwined with my shrill whimper, and I winced as he pulled out and turned me over gingerly, arms encasing me to his chest as he rested at my back.

...

The following three days were as draining as I was praying they wouldn't be, and no matter how hard I tried to ignore him, James was always in my periphery, making me uncomfortable with his wayward hands and taunting me with crude suggestions. Being caged up with him in a secluded little estate after so long an absence from one another was exactly what I did not need. He didn't so much care that Edward was constantly at my back but even still he was absolutely against my even being in a separate room from him during the processions of the day.

With every passing moment in his company I saw things I refused to see while we were together. Manipulation, crassness, impudence, a nauseating pride in his own looks, in his intelligence, in his _money_. He was just throwing it everywhere! Tipping every busboy that brought him a glass, sliding it across the table at anyone who laughed at his jokes, slipping it down the cleavage of Victoria's revealing dresses whenever she bat a lash at him.

A large part of me sat back with a cool shake of the head with the remembrance that James had _always_ been like this, which 8 years hadn't changed in him in the least, and this part brought a great shame to me. Youth was a terrible excuse for accepting someone so...so...James.

Way back when, when we were a couple, I knew he was like this, I simply didn't mind because _I_ was the one he was engaged to, _I_ was the one he came home to at night (most of the time), and his show of money meant only that we would have a secure life together. There was nothing short of disgust in myself whenever my mind skimmed these thoughts, and the thoughts were always there because the bearer of them refused to be more than thirty feet away.

And then there was Jacob who never seemed to leave his shadows, his dark eyes constantly glued to Edward's skull or glaring down at me. Everyone else simply ignored him altogether, but I had no such luxury. He seldom spoke, but when he did the fine hairs on the back of neck stood at attention.

I had every conviction that if James did want either Edward or me dead, Jacob would be the one responsible for it. Revenge seeped from his very presence, in each involuntary stagger of his step. It was only of matter of time.

I sat three seats down from the captain's chair now, in the dining hall, Edward to my right and Miss Charlotte my left. At the captain's chair was James (of course) and to his left and right were Cole and Jacob respectively. This was an intimidation practice, seating his brawniest men near him to give him a greater air of ascendancy. He would attempt to get his way at this meeting or someone would be severely injured; namely someone who disagreed with anything he had to say. The idea made me snort—quietly but very unlady-like— and roll my eyes. Scrawny James sending his hired bitch-boys to throw down on whoever didn't share toys. Mature. Edward nudged his elbow into my rib.

I went back to pretending to pay attention.

"The Syrian border is a risk I'm willing to take but I won't go until I have a second man holding me up."

"Classic of you, Richard, to advertise going to swim in the deep end, but you never _do_ truly go without floaties or someone to hold your hand, do you?"

Santiago flushed angrily. "Harlot," he spit with unconcealed ire. "Instead of running your mouth, invest. Miss Swan."

I answered my summons and read it back to the group. "He said, 'I am not surprised that there is reluctance between us here in this deal but the profit will be worth it. As Royce was once a large part of Syrian trade he should be able to vie for its turnout, should he not?'"

"Oh yes," came Baron Royce's calm baritone, "it holds quite the turnout indeed. But one must be prepared to govern greedy drug lords, establish even a semblance of hierarchy among those savage brutes, and accept that the assassination attempts on their head will more than triple due to unruly, unhappy pubescent boys chanting, pardon my French, 'Fuck the power!'"

I punctured my lip biting it so hard. How unprofessional would I look holding my sides at the discussion table? I didn't really want to find out.

Santiago struggled again in his own French before giving up and enlisting me.

"'Look around yourselves? Is there a soul seated here incapable of quelling a few fires and stomping a few ants, beside the translator?'"

Glances were exchanged. I noticed James sitting back and looking particularly bored, picking at the table cloth or occasionally trying to catch my attention, which I flawlessly ignored.

"I won't have part in it." This was Miss Charlotte. "If I wanted to foster an adolescent operation I would have built it from the ground up myself. This is simply too risky a situation, Santiago. I withdraw."

"I agree." Amun touched his lapel offhandedly. "Discount my support of it."

"As do I," shrugged Royce. "Write me out."

"You are a coward, Royce! The state of the Syrian border will always be on your hands, whether you scrub them clean or not!"

Royce grinned devilishly. "Now where's the fun in scrubbing them clean, eh Santiago? Dirt is a show of pride."

"Ah, but that dirt is more than just a stain, isn't it, Baron," James interjected, bored. I hadn't expected him to speak at all during these meetings as he never had thus far. "It's more like a...an infected itch. You invested more than a handsome share into the border's developments but bit off more than you could chew in the coming of the war and increase in American intervention, am I right?" He continued with Royce's uncharacteristic scowl as confirmation.

"Now there goes all that money, all that time and those resources sunk into nothing, and while you may be more than upset about the loss, you're nowhere near as interested in it if it means even a bit more investment because now there are nothing but wolves and vultures hunting about your farm — one group rabid and hungry for your power and the other picking off your people in hopes of having you as a meal."

"So now you lay in hiding, denying all rights to even Syria itself and her surrounding countries, but you refuse to completely remove yourself. You struggle to milk the last of that land of every bit of her fruits even while you cross your name off the permits to do so, scratching, scratching, scratching at that hopelessly infected itch. Did I nail that or what?"

My jaw was probably in my lap, but luckily I wasn't the only one. Miss Charlotte had her tea cup frozen in the air mid-sip and Victoria's painted eyes were wide as saucers. Amun, Felix and Santiago gawked at James, mystified, while Royce peeled skin with the acid in his glare.

Edward's hand found its way into my lap and entwined our fingers with a squeeze. His brows were drawn so low his eyes narrowed to compensate, and he was probably wondering if what just happened was real or not, as I was. The only one wholly unaffected by the turn of conversation was stony Baroness Rebecca.

That was an attack in its most blatant form. James jumped into that conversation with every intention of drawing blood, and it was evident in his now steepled hands that he would torment the wound personally.

"I'll tell you what. So we can be done with this and move onto more important things, Santiago, I will back you on growth of the Syrian border, war be damned. Where some see it as a warding off, war can be most profitable to those who can work with her. Someone needs to supply those poor citizens with protection, don't they?" He shrugged. "I'll front you an investment, a few men, and see what you make of it. I leave all of the decisions to you, my friend. Do not disappoint."

"Moving on, I'm starving and we've been at this for hours and only one territory has been redistributed, thanks to me. Felix, ring the chef. Let's eat."

Several heartbeats went by before anyone excluding James could even react.

Felix cleared his throat. "Uh, yes, of course. I'll see to it that the meals are prepared right away. Meantime, I suppose that concludes this afternoon's congress. Feel free to disperse. The meal will be served at 2."

...

I talked Edward into sitting atop of my cliff before we were summoned for lunch, and to avoid too much talk amongst the guests - if they hadn't been talking already - he had two nameless busboys (at least that's what I assumed they were) accompany us out while giving us a bit of privacy. We weren't in immediate sight of the chateau, which made my cliff all the more tantalizing of a rendezvous point. In this, though, Edward did not indulge me. Not at first.

"That was brutal in there." I turned my head away from the blue-green sea to stare up into warm, gleaming green eyes. My head lay in his lap while he stroked my hair scalp to ends. "I felt like I was watching a car crash, ya know?"

He chuckled. "Interesting choice of words."

"But, seriously. That was harsh, even for James."

"You followed along with most of what he said, then?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "but I could use a bit of clearing up on a few points."

"I thought you might," he smirked.

I waited patiently as he organized his thoughts.

"Division of territories is a little game that we criminals partake in to...well, divide territories amongst ourselves. This is done formally instead of by simply, boorishly, picking a spot somewhere in the world and just claiming it as ours, as most common cartels nowadays do. The main contenders of this game..."

"The tiers of the underground trade ring," I interrupted. Edward grinned.

"Yes, the tiers of the trade rings convene once every four years to submit basic numbers and statistics on their territories, and dump and rehash what was unsuccessful for them for something new. You follow?"

I nodded.

"Why what happened back there seemed like such a 'car crash' to you was because, even amongst the players, it's a pretty dick move to take someone else's failings to rub in their face, because, after all, this is still business."

"Seems more like politics."

"Dangerous politics."

"But politics nonetheless."

"And now James should be a bit more on his toes because Royce isn't going to take that public lashing quietly."

"What will he do?"

The hand in my hair massaged my scalp before burrowing into the mass to hold my skull. The fingers of his other hand skimmed my forehead, cheek, eyebrows, and then settled on my jaw as Edward held my gaze.

His words were solemn. "He's probably planning an assassination on him as we speak."

I nodded slowly. "Do you think he needs some help?"

He stared at me incredulously a moment before bursting into a laugh and drawing my lips to his for heavy, drugging kisses. "You never cease to surprise me, sweetheart."

I had some witty, sharp response to that but my mind was completely preoccupied with wanting more of his mouth.

"Do you think lunch will be ready anytime soon?" he breathed, his train of thought following mine.

"Not at all."

"Hungry?"

"Not for food," I whispered, and at his answering growl I pushed him down into the grass. His kiss was greedy and incessant while somehow still tender and devoted. The pressure of his hands on my neck and lower back were light but arresting.

My tongue traced the lush sculpt of his upper lip before curving along the lower one, tasting all of the sweet wine he shouldn't have been drinking in the early afternoon, and I was instantly light-headed, in a daze as he thrust his tongue in and out of me in a hypnotic, maddening rhythm. In. Out. In. Out. Lick. Caress. Lick. Caress. Squeeze. Release. Squeeze. Release. I moaned, grinding my hips into his taut stomach as his hands made to control them.

"Can you never behave yourself, woman?" The husk of his voice sent shivers down my spine.

"I want you. Please?"

"Here?"

"Anywhere, damn it. Just fuck me."

His shit-eating grin was quite short-lived as I forced my way into his trousers to grope and massage his growing erection, and my fingers made quick work of bringing the large flesh to life at my touch, his groans spurring me on, and that telltale bead of moisture dewed at the pin-hole atop of the crown.

I looked down between us to watch the show and my self-control dwindled to nil. My sex throbbed achy and emptily.

"I want you so much," I whispered to Edward's thrumming heartbeat.

And then a nonstop gush of expletives filled the air as Edward took hold of my wrist and lifted me off of him. He stood to straighten his clothes, and then fixed my skirt as well. The curses just came and came. He took my hand, unconsciously putting the fingertips to his mumbling lips before leading me behind a bush of Rosemary, and I could scarcely resist inhaling.

"I'll fucking kill 'em. Remove their arms from their body and shove it up their arses until they're spitting fingernails for the rest of their lives. 'Ave gotta be fucking kidding me." He paused to readjust himself in his pants and this seemed to make him even angrier.

I frowned now as I followed the direction of Edward's glare to see James fucking Victoria against a shady cypress tree around the corner from us, Victoria's high-pitched mewls rivaling the volume of the crashing waves against rock. It seemed quite…theatrical. Over the top. I flushed nonetheless, my eyes falling to my peep-toed heels as I squeezed Edward's hand. He looked down to me briefly, stroked my knuckles with his thumb, and then lead me the long way around the foliage, the way we'd snuck to my cliff, to escort me back into the chateau.

"Aren't you uncomfortable?" I asked quietly as we settled back at the dining table. I placed my hand, still entwined with his, on his lap to smooth the fabric over his thigh, and the gesture was not meant to be sexual, but comforting.

He shrugged and made a face. "I'll survive. Just don't be surprised when I take out my frustration on your body later." His wink made my skin tingle.

The afternoon lunchtime, boisterous and delicious as it always was, concluded rather awkwardly. Victoria's makeup was obviously reapplied while her thick wavy red hair was more tousled than was usual, and dear, charming Royce sat with a contained scowl the whole time, not once looking up as he ate. Santiago was, unsurprisingly, still flustered about our earlier discussions, and James basically talked and flirted with himself over the silence of the table, as Victoria had clearly lost her interest in him and I was already ignoring all of his advances, as was Edward.

The common room was no more amiable, and I alternated between conversing with Lady Charlotte and speaking with members of the Entourage. Edward kept his distance, wisely, and every now and again I would catch him staring at me unabashedly with heat that made me shudder and quiver all over.

"So that mark there, on your cheek—did Christos do that to you?"

I started slightly, choking a little on my drink as Miss Charlotte watched me coolly.

"Um…"

"It's alright, dear; no need to be shy with me. I've known Jimmy since his name first started popping up around our trade lines, and I still despise him to this day. You two know each other?"

I focused on my foot, turning it this way and that, and answered, "From…a _very _long time ago. We met in America."

"Well of course you did. You certainly didn't meet him in Iran."

I flinched at her accusation and sipped at my white wine.

"Don't be nervous, I haven't and won't tell anyone who you are, _Miss Swan_. I'm a friend of Masen's."

At this I looked up and as this was my first time having ever seen the regal matron smile I was a tad stunned by her aged beauty. She could be anywhere between thirty and sixty (or even older) but one would have to take quite the educated guess. Not a wrinkle or blemish in her lovely peach-toned skin, her face was small and heart shaped; her rouge mouth was slightly bowed but full. Her nose a stately button, but her sharp sapphire eyes were the main feature, shining with experience and sagacity that completely threw me where years were concerned.

"You're doing quite well keeping up this act as it is. I don't believe anyone has caught onto you just yet, so don't blow up on yourself or you'll end up dead within the hour of discovery. We need to talk. Walk with me a moment."

As if I had much of a choice.

She led me out of the parlor to the entrance hall, and before I followed her out to the courtyard I chanced a look back to be sure this is what Edward wanted. He was watching me gravely, and as our eyes met he nodded marginally. I fell into step with Miss Charlotte.

"So, Bella—"

"Isabella," I corrected her. There were eyes and ears everywhere.

"Right. Isabella." She glanced at me. "I can't imagine how hard this has all been for you, dear. You have my sympathy."

_I don't want your sympathy. _"Thank you."

"You're likely wondering why I waited so long to approach you."

I could guess why.

"I was testing you." Bingo. Everything was a test in this world. "Edward approached me about a month ago to do him a favor. I was indebted to him as it was for a previous service but I refused to lend myself to a rescue mission for someone who could potentially cost me my own life."

I nodded woodenly, but my interest was wholly pulled toward the insight she'd given me. _A month ago._

"He explained the situation to me albeit incompletely, but he insisted that he needed my help, and that man, as you know, is not known for needing depend on anyone but himself. Imagine my surprise when he'd come to me so suddenly."

"Have you known each other long?"

"A few years, yes. I was his mentor when he first grouped up with Aro for the Volturi. I trained him personally."

I gaped at her, and she laughed and cleared her throat in an attempt to regain her steely composure.

"Don't go shrinking away from me now. If you noticed, you were the only one at this damned conference who has approached me aside from Edward without a shank at your back. I am dangerous, don't doubt that, but just because I have my particular set of skills does not mean I intend to use them on you, or anyone else for that matter."

"So…you know about all of those paralyzing nerves in the body too?"

"Know about them? I can cut them all off of you in less than five seconds so you can only look around for the next six days."

"Oh…Please don't."

Again, she laughed, but she didn't bother trying to contain herself this time. "I like you, Bella. I'm sure if the circumstances were different and I'd met you here we would be good friends. After we get you back home expect me to drop in on you a few times.

"Ah, I suppose it would be wise of me to inform you that I know almost everything about you, as well. The real you, I mean. I would venture I know everything beside your menstrual cycle."

"I'm on it now, in case you were wondering."

She grinned. "I wasn't, but thank you."

"Do you and Edward have a plan, then?"

Her smile waned and she clasped her hands behind her back. "We're working on it."

"Noted. Is there anything I should know?"

"Other than pretend this conversation never happened, no. You're doing an excellent job; keep up the good work, et cetera, et cetera. Now let's get back inside before we're missed. I have a feeling I know who we're going to run into next when we get back."

If the person she was expecting by the door was Felix then I felt very obligated to send her a drink. The giant smiled stiffly at Miss Charlotte as she passed, but caught my wrist in a beefy manacle as I tried to pass. Charlotte continued into the parlor without a backward glance, and I couldn't help but feel as if I was just set up.

...

"You aren't very smart, are you, baby?"

"Go fuck yourself, James."

"Easy, Cole. I can't have my last dance of the evening _too _bruised. What would the others think of me?"

"That you're a big, steaming piece of shit. And they'd be right."

"Cole," James warned again. "She's obviously trying to get a rise out of you, big guy. Go take a walk, get a drink. I'll send for you. Why can't you be nice, Bella? You used to be the sweetest girl in Seattle, once upon a time." He cupped my chin and frowned.

I jerked away, flexing in my binds. "That was before you faked your death, fucked me over, and sent me on a wild race around the world for fun. You really are a piece of shit, you know. How could you do that to me, James? How do you even live with yourself after something like that?"

He shook his head crossly. "You don't get to ask me a question like that, Bells. I don't owe you anything."

"Bull. Shit."

"I could have just killed you. Did you ever think of that? Maybe I was doing you a favor."

"Again, bullshit, because if I ended up dead before you dropped off the planet where would you find another poor, docile soul to hide you while you were undercover?" I gave him a pointed look and he frowned further. "Whoever you were dodging would have been all over you like an STI and you know it."

He sighed. "You have a point. The main reason Jacob chose you for me was because you were such a church mouse. It was an excellent decision on his part but it's always the quiet ones…"

"Where is Jacob, by the way? Before I die I'd like to tear you both a couple of new ones to remember me by."

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you, babe. I'm gonna take you everywhere with me after I blow this place up. We are, after all, still engaged. I had Jacob file for one of those online licenses so he could wed us himself. It's an awesome idea, no?"

"No," I shuddered. Damned if I could keep the horror out of my voice. "I would much prefer if you just killed me, thank you very—Wait. What do you mean, 'Blow this place up?' James? What are you talking about?"

He shrugged. "You didn't think I came here to 'do business', did you? I'm one of the richest men to walk this earth. Why the hell would I set aside time to 'convene' when I could simply take everyone in this building out at one time and have all of their assets to myself? I hate when they request this shit."

"You are the most disgusting person I've ever met. If you don't kill me here now and you actually go through with this insane plan of yours, I guarantee I will take my own life. Don't test me, James."

"Don't you want to be rich, baby?"

"Not even a little."

"Don't you wanna be with me, at least?"

"You can go fuck yourself."

This was the first time I had ever seen James genuinely furious, and ice dripped down my spine as he straightened and smoothed his hair back into his ponytail with unsettling calm. He gestured to one of the men that stood in the corner of the room and pointed outside. To another he pointed to me.

"Get Cole. We're going to be doing things a little ahead of schedule. You, cut off her bindings. We're going to enjoy our last meal here comfortably.

"And you, beloved, can say your goodbye's now. I see now you need a little reconditioning, and guess what step one of the process is? You got it baby: we're going to blow Masen and everyone else here six ways to Sunday. That's right!" He laughed. "Get excited! Then maybe if all this doesn't teach you a lesson we can move onto your friends who booked it to Canada. Then your mom and stepdad. Then Charlie, until you've lost everything one by one and I'm all you've got left. Till I'm all you have, I'm all you want. I almost want to skip dinner just to get down to the nitty-gritty! Untie her, already. I'm ready to go."

The man behind me had to brace my back as he cut the ropes because I just couldn't stop shaking. The room was blurred into colors as he pulled me to my feet, and my sobs drowned out everyone's footsteps in the halls as I was escorted to the dining area. They sat me to the right of James's captain's chair, and even as the Company and the Entourage began to trickle in one by one I didn't quiet my cries. Maybe they would all take it as a sign and run for their lives. None of them did though, they simply looked at me as if I'd grown a third head, as if I brought great shame to myself for such a public show of distress.

There was no hope of stopping when Edward trailed into the room though. I just got louder, angrier. He sat across from me and down by a seat, and I wanted to slug him for looking so composed. Charlotte pulled up a chair three seats to my right.

Once everyone was seated I'd run out of tears, but now I was trembling with fury. Couldn't Edward see that something was wrong here? Was my bawling not warning enough for him? Dinner was set before us with tall, deep goblets of dark amber liquor. James lifted his glass and everyone else followed suit. I just stared down at my plate.

"Hello again, everyone. You're all looking well tonight." A few people glanced over at me and smirked. "I have to thank each of you for such a warm reception that we've had here for the past few days. We got a lot done, of which I'm proud, and it was all handled professionally.

"So it is with great sadness that I regret to inform you that you will all die here tonight, and this building will go up in flames with your bodies inside of it."

For a long time not a sound was made, but at the racket of glass shattering somewhere in the halls, voices rung in outrage as people jumped to their feet. With more than a little annoyance I noticed Edward still calmly seated and sipping from his glass.

"If this is a joke, Christos, I assure you it is the lowest form of humor."

James took a bite of his smoking salmon and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "No joke, Amun, I assure _you_. Don't get me wrong, you're all great people. I just want you dead.

"Also, if anyone of you makes the mistake of raising a gun to me you will be shot on sight. I would keep my hands visible at all times if I were you. My men can be jumpy."

"Christos, please." Victoria saddled up to James's side like a lost puppy and rubbed his shoulders. "I can understand if you want some of us dead but _all _of us? Are you sure?"

"Oh yes. Most definitely."

His answer left very little room for her to say anymore, and with the slight warble of her red lips Victoria slunk back to her seat, dejected.

"This is madness, Christos," Santiago spluttered, and his round face was even more red than usual. "How dare you? Where's your civility?"

"By the way, everyone, it's _Christoph_, as in _Christopher. _Not Christos. I have no idea where that name came from but it's quite incorrect. I couldn't wait any longer to address the issue, it was killing me."

From my periphery I watched as one of the more quiet members of Baron Royce's entourage stood with a flourish and reached his hand into his jacket, but closed my eyes as the shot of a gun rang out and the thump of a body hit the floor. I hated that noise. It was the vertex of all my misfortune. I opened my eyes again after some time to see James still ravenously devouring his salmon.

"If you haven't already noticed," he said around a mouth full of food, "you're all surrounded at least two to one, and there are even more men outside _if _any of you managed to slip past these guys so you might as well take death with some grace. Sit down. Eat, drink. Enjoy your last hour, for the love of God and stop raising your blood pressures."

It took a moment but soon everyone on their feet realized that saving themselves was futile, and so they all eventually sat down, and though some stared at their plates as blankly as I did, a few people, Santiago included, chowed down on their meals and even called for seconds and thirds.

After James exhausted himself he had everyone moved to the main room of the chateau, and the set chairs and were all cleared from the floor as an up-tempo track played in the background. I stared incredulously as he took my wrist.

"Wanna dance, Bells? Nah, don't answer that. Of course you do. And the rest of you might as well get on the floor and enjoy yourselves. Or, mope around and feel sorry for yourselves. I don't really care. Come on, babe."

I was pliant as he pulled me into his arms and held one of my hands up past my shoulder. I felt as lost as everyone else looked.

Everyone, that is, except Edward who grabbed hold of Victoria's waist and led her to the edge of the room for a dance of his own.

The pang in my chest at seeing him grinning down at her was a welcomed feeling. Being angry at him was so much better than thinking of losing him. I made everything about him at this moment something to despise. How unruly his hair was, how good he looked clean shaven, the perfect fit of his white suit. I wanted to kick his ass for these things.

"You're coming around, I see."

I avoided his eyes. "Yes, James."

"Good, good. It makes me happy to see you like this. Almost like old times."

"Yes, James."

"I still got it, right?" He beamed as he held me at arm's length and spun me around, pulling me back again to fall back into step. "Not bad for eight years apart, right?"

"Yes, James."

"Cheer up, baby. A few days from now you'll fall right back in love with me, okay? You're just a little confused from having not seen me in so long. We'll be happy again together, I promise."

I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand quickly and just turned all of my thoughts off as I shuffled from side to side.

But then, it was as if everything slowed to a snail's pace simply to taunt my frayed nerves. From over Cristoph's shoulder I watched as Edward's hands caressed up the red head's arms slowly, sensually, and came to rest at her shoulders, his eyes locked on mine in a forceful glare that made my skin feel like it was on fire, my legs ready to collapse beneath me. He mouthed something I didn't catch, increased the pressure in his fingers so the woman fell slack in his arms, and swiftly slid his hand into his breast pocket. As the tendons of his wrist stood out against his skin, I froze as I was, a blistering cold emanating from the tip of my toes and creeping up my veins until I was virtually paralyzed. I was a roving ball of flames and ice, a giant mess of adrenaline and numbness, having no choice but to watch the events unfold around me.

He drew and pointed it directly at Alec's forehead. It was a blank, an obviously fake gun, but James's guards acted just as Edward predicted. They were fast but not faster than him.

The shot was a booming noise in the once quiet chateau, and the second the red material landed on Alec's face he went down writhing, as if he'd really been shot. The guards presented their weapons, all of them firing at anything that moved or was not dead. I watched as the colossal Cole aimed his gun at me and saw how hastily he threw his arm out, his wrist curving from the jerky movement and causing the bullet to fly at a tangent, just taking off the skin of my bicep but going straight through James's shoulder blade.

James swore aloud, a thundering voice that echoed off the walls and sent a thrill of electricity through me. My finger twitched and just as I was to move, something solid collided with me, bringing me down unto the floor and knocking the air out of my lungs. I took a faltered breath, but it was too broken to make a difference. I tried again and gasped as an arm ensnared my waist, hauling me up on my hands and knees and dragging me across the floor, past motionless bodies. Past an unmoving Edward.

My muscles jumped and twitched, my lungs working overtime to get some oxygen to my brain, but all I could see was Edward on the floor. Not moving. Not moving.

Whoever was dragging me along didn't want to deal with my episode, and so I was more or less treated like a rag doll as we moved down the black Southern corridor that led who knows where.

Fresh air brought a shock to my system, and after I was steadied on my feet I spun on my heel to go back for him, for Edward. It was like a band of iron was wrapped around my stomach though, and I struggled.

"Calm yourself or I'll paralyze every nerve in your body."

I inhaled sharply as Charlotte pulled me back around, winding myself as I flung my arms around her neck and cried into her shoulder. She gave me a moment, giving me a few rough pats on the back before ordering me to stand straight.

"Listen, Swan. I'm going to get you out of here, and if you want to live you better damn well start acting like it. Do you understand me?"

At that particular moment I wasn't very much feeling in the mood to be alive but I nodded.

"Good. Now take this and you start running. I'm right behind you."

"But I—"

"No time, Swan!"

"But Edward—"

"MOVE!"

Another sob wracked me like a crack across the heart when I realized I was rushing forward. My heels dug into my feet painfully as I tripped over gravel and grass alike but I did not stop. I heard my own breath, whistling through my clenched teeth as I ran, and I heard the distant screams of the poor souls that would forever be trapped in the walls of the chateau mingled with the rapid fire of gunshots. I ran from them, from those haunting sounds and those awful people who caused them, until I was speeding towards the encroaching trees that led onto a moonlit footpath.

It felt like I'd been running for hours, but I did not stop. My legs and feet and hips begged for the mercy of rest but I did not stop. I slowed only briefly to toss my heels into the darkness one by one but I was off again after taking pity on myself. Hints of the ribboning road flashed from a short distance away, and I pushed harder to get to it, ignoring the burning constriction of my throat and the throbbing of my soles.

The trees cleared, and just as I stepped out of the foliage I collided with a solid chest and was sent barreling backwards, right back into the darkness.

"I should've known you would be the only one to make it out of there, Bells. Always the most trouble. Always the biggest pain in my ass," and silent tears streamed down my cheeks because this was Jacob's voice, and any hope I had of surviving just went right out the window.

"Jake," I gasped, hoarse, exhausted. My eyes fell closed from the exertion of keeping them open. It made no difference in the darkness though.

"Hey, Bells. Always a pleasure."

"Jake. He's dead. James…he's dead. I'm sure of it."

"What's your point?"

My eyes popped open, staring towards where his voice came from. "What's my point? My point is you don't have to do this anymore. You're free, Jake. You can do whatever you want now!"

"I was doing whatever I wanted before so I'm not sure what you're getting at here."

"You…you wanted to be by James's side? I thought…I-I thought you…"

"I'm really getting sick of your meddling, Bells."

"_Meddling?_ I didn't meddle in anything! You _both _came for me, not the other way around, Jacob! How can you even say that?"

The crunch of rock came from his general direction, and I slid backward on my ass and hands as he came closer, but not fast enough as he crouched down in front of me and held me by the calf. His palms were large and hot.

"What do you want from me?" I whispered.

"I don't know yet, to be honest with you, so I'm mixed between shattering your skull open and tossing you into the sea."

"Why! I don't understand why, Jake! Why put me through so much shit eight years ago and lead James into my life? Why put me through the ringer in Forks and come after me in that cave? Why are you standing in front of me right now? What do you want?"

"I don't really have answer for those questions either. Maybe I just like to run you around like you did me when we were kids."

I gaped at his shadow, enraged. "You're doing all of this because of a high school crush then? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Yeah, I probably am," he said, and the defensive tone he took on made me laugh. This was certified insanity embodied. He was ruining my life for an unreciprocated teenaged crush. Over a decade later. Half way across the world. I laughed again.

And then there was nothing else I wanted to say to this man who'd tortured me throughout my adult life with idle threats and petty hate. Thank God for the dark because I'd likely heave if I had to look at his face one more time. The small silver gun that Miss Charlotte put in my hand felt heavier and heavier as the seconds went by, and eventually I raised it to hold to Jacob's heart, where he stilled beneath me.

It felt strange, knowing that his life was in my hands at that moment. Unreal.

"Well don't just sit there, Bells. Shoot. Shoot me."

"She doesn't have to. Allow me."

The weight of Jacob falling on top of me was crushing but it only lasted an instant. He was rolled off into the grass the same time I was hauled off of the ground, and there was no breathing room in between before I was sprinting again. I kept my eyes on the ground, hoping beyond all hope when we'd finally come to a stop and I was rushed into the passenger side of a small non-descript car.

The driver's side door opened and shut with a slam, the car was started and we were speeding down the highway much too fast to be legal. I kept my eyes in my lap, my chest heaving as I caught my breath. _It was over_, my mind sang. _It's over! It's over!_

A while passed before the car finally came to a stop in some deserted corner of the road. I looked up and out the windshield at the low hanging clouds that shrouded the moon. I felt concealed. _I felt safe._

"Look at me, sweetheart." And I did so on command.

There in the driver's seat was my beautiful, wonderful caveman, all concern and tension as he angled himself towards me. I stared at him for only a moment before climbing out of my seat and into his lap, taking his jaw between my shaking fingers and claiming his full mouth in a kiss that made my soul fly. My hands roamed every inch of him as he encased me in his arms, and he was all there, every bit of him, but he flinched as I touched his right shoulder. I pulled back to examine the spot, and only then did I notice the blood on my palm, the dark blotch seeped into his jacket.

"Oh my God," I gasped.

"No, no, calm down, it's not that bad."

"Edward, you're _bleeding_."

"I'm fine. Hey." He tilted my chin and kissed me soundly, rubbing my back with his free hand. "I'm just fine. This is nothing. It just stings a little, is all."

I glared down at him, skeptical, and he grinned crookedly at me. "It's going to take more than a bullet to take me down, sweetheart."

"I'm so happy you're safe," I murmured putting my arms around his neck. "I'm so happy. I love you so much. Thank you."

He squeezed me harder, holding me to him. "I know, baby, I know. The important thing is that _you're_ safe, and I'll have to repay Charlotte ten times over for her help in this."

I nodded but I could only think of him and his state of wellbeing. I was sure Charlotte could take care of herself—

Suddenly there was the rumble of an explosion filling the air, and the seats vibrated subtly as the ground made the car tremble.

"What was that?"

"That was the chateau. Get into your seat baby, and buckle up."

I hesitated but crawled back into the passenger's chair while Edward started the car once more and pulled back onto the road with a sharp U-turn.

"What now?" I asked, and Edward's expression as he looked over at me made me want to go back to his lap. He looked…sad. It was something I'd never seen of him before. He took my hand and kissed the fingertips before putting it back on my thigh and giving the road his attention.

"I'm taking you back."

Panic gripped me. "Shouldn't we hide out for a few more days or…?"

"No, love. I have to take you home."

Panic melted over into dejection as I settled into my seat, and I stared out my window as I wracked my brain for an excuse—any excuse—that would give me some time.

My time was up, however, as we pulled into a large runway with a single plane on the strip—a private one. Standing in front of it were three figures. My brow furrowed. Edward stopped the car in front of them and sat very still for a moment. Finally he looked over with a small smile, a reflection of that sad expression that made my palms itch, and he squeezed my hand as he opened his door to step out. I followed suit, and he came around to drop a kiss to my forehead and put his arm around my shoulder.

We walked toward the three figures, two of them in a half-embrace, and my breath caught as the light hit their faces.

"Mom? Charlie?"

My legs carried themselves over, my brain on autopilot. Renee flew into me and hugged me close, sobbing into my shoulder. Phil strolled to us with a tight smile and ruffled my hair as he always did when he saw me, his favorite show of affection. The smell of coffee, mints, and cigarettes wafted in the air, and then I felt the tickle of a moustache as Charlie pulled me from my mother's death grip and lifted me into a spin. Numb. I was so numb I could barely think.

"What are you guys doing here?" I whispered.

"We're here to bring you home, baby," Renee cooed as she swept my hair from my face. "You're finally coming home. We missed you so much."

"Home?" My voice was so hoarse. When did I start crying?

"When Edward told us where you were and all that happened…" Her lip began to tremble and she pulled me in for another hug. "Oh, my poor baby."

"Edward…?"

I stepped out of my mother's embrace and turned stiffly, my limbs cold and oh-so numb as I watched him advance. Edward told them?

"Edward?"

"Are you pleased?" The small upturn of his mouth gave my heart a hard clench.

"When…did you call my parents? Why didn't you…?" _Tell me? Why didn't you wait till I was ready to let you go?_

"A month ago," he said, and my heart broke one more time.

"Are you pleased?" he asked again. I shook my head minutely, grasping him by the sides and walking into his chest until he wrapped his arms around me, smoothed my hair down my back.

"I don't want to go," I whispered so only he could hear me. "I don't want to leave you, not yet."

"Listen." He withdrew and took a step back, lifting my wrist to his lips before putting his fist in my hand, and I knew what he'd given me without even looking down. I shook my head vehemently, tears falling fast and hard. "Take that for me, okay? Take good care of it, but take even better care of yourself, or I'll hang you upside down from a tree and paddle you until your red."

"Edward…"

"I gotta go. Come here." He took my chin with gentle fingers and kissed me softly, lightly, shy almost. As if we hadn't done so much more in the past months we spent together. His breath was sweet as it fanned across my face and he laid his forehead on mine. "Bye, doll. It's been fun."

And then he let me go.

I cursed, unable to see him through the blur of my tears as he waved to my family behind me and hopped into that little car. And my knees collapsed as he peeled out of the lot and raced back into the night.

"Oh, Bella, it'll be okay. Come on, let's get you inside and back home where you belong. We missed you, sweetheart."

The plane's interior was big and clean and rich, the seats comfortable and plush and brown. The food placed in front of me smelled more than inviting, but I was beyond noticing such luxuries. I leaned back into my seat and closed my eyes, refusing to go wash up though Renee pleaded me to. There was blood on my hand, his blood, and I had no intention of washing it off just yet, not if this was all I had left of him.

But it wasn't all I had left him, not really, I thought to myself as I twisted Jean Masen's beautiful ring around my finger. No, he'd given me something he obviously loved, a piece of him to have forever. Something permanent.

Stockholm Syndrome, I reminded myself. Real or fake, myth or legend, it didn't matter anymore. It was all over now, and sealed with a perfect kiss.

Damn him, he shouldn't have done that. How much better off would I be if he had simply walked away? Why remind me of what I stood to lose choosing one life over the other?

We were halfway to the JFK airport when I opened my eyes to see three different anxious expressions staring back at me. Charlie was the first amongst them to speak up.

"Are you, uh…Are you alright, Bells? Anything I can do for you?"

"I'm fine," I lied smoothly, because why wouldn't I be? I was finally rid of the nightmare of fleeing for my life every day. This was a happy moment for me, wasn't it? "Just one thing."

"What is it?"

"I'm quitting my job. Fuck caves."


	36. Epilogue

Epilogue

The last thing I should have been doing right now was sweating. It was, what, thirty degrees out? I could barely feel my toes, but moving had never been exceedingly easy for me anyway. I simply wasn't built for it.

I hung my parka at the rack on the backdoor, switched on the stereo to play my most calming collection of music, and dumped my boots somewhere around the dining table on the way to my living chair. My soft, brand new living chair made with the best stuff on earth that'd been calling my name for three hours now. I fell into it with no grace at all whatsoever. In fact, my butt wasn't even in it - I faceplanted into it, ass in the air as I hugged the winged back and rubbed my cheek into the upholstery.

A tiny body sauntered by my legs, rubbing me, and I peeked past my arm to see my disapproving cat watch me with disapproving eyes...disapprovingly. We stared at each other. "Don't you have new things to sniff, kid? Get lost." I hissed to make my point and if cats could roll their eyes she would have.

I finally made it into the chair - correctly - after Cheesecake wandered off. I had missed her almost more than I missed my parents while I was away. When Lauren returned her to me, questions abreast, I broke down and cried right into her tiny shoulder, and she sat there and took it like a champ. She was a bit fatter than before I left, but she was impossible to deny when she wanted something. Lauren hadn't stood a chance in resisting her.

I shifted to get my phone from my backpocket and blinked at the screen. August 17, 2011. I sighed. A text message (or twelve) made the screen flash, and I scrolled through them all, skimming. Most of them were from Renee, one from Charlie, another from puppy dog Ben, asking about the move, if I was alright. The other four were from Alice, Esme, and Rosalie, and I thumbed out a response to those. I'd only seen them once since I got back, and it was a very bittersweet thing to see them all so happy and wrapped up in the men that saved them. I owed Carlisle, Emmett and Jasper a couple of beers for playing hero, and the price would have been much higher if they hadn't insisted that saving the girls was done more because they loved them than because I'd asked, but I was determined to show my gratitude.

My heart was infinitely lighter seeing them all, safe and in the flesh, and I occupied every ounce of their time while they made their last rounds in Forks. I was living with Charlie at the time having had the selling of my home be the first thing done. Alice and Rose - bless them - were saint enough to help me pack up and move out. Stepping in there, in that home that held new meaning than when I had left it, was painful to say the least. I saw things in every piece of furniture that _he_ sat at, in every wall _he_ leaned against. I even had to toss the bed because the memories were so sharp, so fresh. Charlie had cleaned up the mess and litter of glass that should have been all over the floors but there was barely a speck of dust to be found. The place was spotless.

Talking to them about...everything...was as bad as I thought it would be. Once Charlie had left the house and we occupied the living room there were tears poured all around. We were dehydrated after only half the tale. Being around Alice happened to be the worst of it all though, and that made me feel like shit. She hadn't chosen her genetics, but I saw things in her emerald flecked grey eyes that made my heart burst. Time and time again passed where I just couldn't look her in the eye but she never called me on it. The time did come where she got me alone and dropped her "I know everything" bomb on me, though. She looked so damned smug and pleased with herself after telling me that the smidge of awkward was cleared away at once and she was my sister again, and only _his _in the biological sense.

Time with Rose was the definition of home therapy. No one could kick my ass into shape like Rose could. I couldn't even find the energy to be depressed around her since she'd given me the distraction of working out. It wasn't something I partook of normally, but I picked up a habit after she forced me into a gym. I stopped going only very recently, and already I missed it.

Esme was icing on my recovery cake. Getting over and counting my losses was made so much easier because of her. She said that my energy spoke for itself, and it prompted her to tell me all the little details about her life with Edward Anthony Masen Senior. Oh, how I flinched hearing all of the similarities between her past life and mine, but, as I believe she'd planned all along, I was eventually desensitized. I even learned to smile where our anecdotes overlapped, especially in her descriptions of passionate love making and war-scaled arguments. I'm sure she knew what a big help she was. She only nodded with a smirk when I told her I quit.

I spent a week with them all before they returned to Canada to resume readjusting to their new lives, and they'd picked up all of the pieces I couldn't for me. My phone vibrated in my hand. I answered on the third buzz.

"Hello?"

"Tell me your doing just fine in that big house all alone and that I don't need to fly down there."

"I'm doing just fine in this big house all alone and you don't need to fly down here."

"Oh, thank God. I was prepared to take the first flight out if necessary." "I'm good, Rose, really."

"Only if you're sure. How'd the move go? Any visitors yet?"

"No, and fine but rough. Who knew I had so much shit?"

"So much new and luxurious shit."

I tried to keep my pressing growl at bay. "Yeah, thanks for reminding me about that."

"Look around you, babe. Everything there is a reminder. I got nothin' to do with it."

"I still can hardly believe him, Rose, I swear," I fumed, scowling at the ceiling, very angry with my new favorite chair all of a sudden.

"Listen, Bells. I know you're trying to reassert your independence or whatever but he's trying to apologize this way...I think."

"Apology?" I was shouting. "If he wanted to apologize he could bring his Neanderthal ass here and do it in person! Until then, he can quit throwing his money at me like I'm some sick charity case in need."

"Ouch. What numbers are we at since the last time you checked?"

"Four-fifty two, and growing."

"Holy hell, that's thirty grand more than there was two weeks ago! And you bought a shit load of stuff between then and now!"

"I know! He was always like that, you know. Always gotta have the last word, no matter what." Asserting his dominance.

"Sounds to me like no matter how much you get rid of he's just going to keep adding and adding to your account."

"And I can't cancel it or reverse the funds because his name is jointed in the account." I sighed. "They think we're really married!" I twisted the symbol of my problems – the source of my issues, as I liked to call it from time to time – around and around my finger in earnest, as if the action could help me if I moved it a little faster. No matter how left my thoughts turned I couldn't seem to get the damned thing off.

"Well, I guess you can just continue with all that donating you're doing. But remember, save some of that for the future, Bells. Since you quit your job you need something to live off of for a while, and it'll be good for you in a few m-"

"Alright, Rose, I gotta go. The boxes aren't going to unpack themselves and I've had more than a long enough break."

"Wait! I was just gonna say you could use that for you and the b-"

"Love you, talk to you soon, bye." I ended the call with a tap and climbed out of my seat to head to the kitchen.

Leave it to Rose to have something like that on the brain. I thought about it, of course, much more than she gave me credit for, but the fact was I didn't have anything to worry about for a while, and when the time came to start worrying I would be more than prepared. Not like I had a choice.

I stilled in my tearing open of boxes and bit my lip. No, that wasn't right. Of course I had a choice, one that I'd already made with the utmost of confidence. To everyone else I seemed put off with what to do but that was the furthest from the truth. I wanted this. More than anything else in the world, anyone else, I wanted this. Hell, it was the main reason I chose to move away and start over. I knew what I was doing.

It took a couple of hours but I finally had the living room, bedrooms, and most of the kitchen put away and in working condition. Only the uppermost curve of the sun was left in view and tinged the sky yellow, orange, pink, blue, and purple. A girl could really appreciate a sunset here which gave my new home an added appeal, and that it was only a few miles or so off the coast wasn't too bad either. Sea salt clung to the air here. Leaving the stereo on to make working a little easier, I fumbled with the dishwasher for a few minutes after finishing up my supper of bread and yogurt, trying to match Faith Evan's passionate tones and failing miserably. Then I did a once-over of the house to be sure all the lights and electronics were on and working. I had nothing left in the moving truck outside, so I would simply return it tomorrow instead of breaking my neck for the rest of the night. The dishwasher remained uncooperative though, and growing frustrated by its lack of words to tell me what the hell was its problem I just washed my boxed dishes by hand and began putting them away. This was one of the instances where I hated not being a six foot bombshell who could reach tall crevices. The other shelves, the lower shelves, were packed, and the higher ones were all I had left to work with. I jumped to reach the space, then used the sink to lever myself higher, which didn't work at all. To my utter horror I watched as the ceramic dish fell from between my fingers, and I prepared for the sound of impact...

Which was why seeing a white hand shoot out from the corner of my eye to catch the plate made me pale beyond pigment. Without the slightest pump of my lungs or whistle of oxygen I trailed my gaze from the hand to the arm up, up, and all the way up, to see Edward glaring down at me with bottomless green eyes. My lungs wouldn't have worked even if I wanted them to.

"You live alone out here so I can see that things can be a bit more difficult for you," his honey voice said, as low and as impossibly deep as I remembered it. "But if you can't do something, stop being stubborn and find an alternative for once. Advice to live by, I think."

What...?

"Bella."

How is he...?

"Bella?"

Edward's here.

"Bella! Breathe for the love of God! You're blue!"

I inhaled sharply, stumbling back from the vigor of it, and braced my arms on the sink as I whirled around to face him. Oh, he was so beautiful. So devastatingly handsome and masculine it made my womanhood pulse for him. He seemed almost twice my size this close after so long without him hovering over me like he always did, and that telltale attraction between us was primal and magnetic and alive with reunion as we stared at each other. I was the first to speak, breathless as I was. I felt like a pile of mush and flesh.

"What are you doing here?"

"Just bringing my Neanderthal ass here to apologize for whatever it is I've done to upset you." He reached out to plait a curled strand of my hair behind my ear, and when his finger glanced my cheek I gasped through my teeth. "And to make sure you're secure up here."

"Secure?" "Security, love."

"As in my security system?"

"Yes."

"That was on, by the way. How the hell did you get in here?"

"That's exactly what I'm referring to. A child could have disabled it in seconds."

"No children that I know."

"But plenty that I do."

I took a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest defensively, trying to make myself seem bigger though he dwarfed me. "What are you really doing here, Edward? One goodbye was painful enough. I'll hardly survive another."

He had the grace to flinch, but otherwise showed nothing. But his eyes... "I really am here to see how you were faring. I heard about the house, and then the move-"

"You heard about the move or you saw the bank statement and withdrawal amount?"

His expression was a challenge. "Both, actually."

"Don't worry; I'll put everything back where it belongs. I have every intention of replacing what was used, so no need to waste any more time wallowing here."

His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and I could almost hear his jaw work against itself. "I don't want you to pay me back, Bella. That money is for you to use as you please. I don't care how you spend it and that's not why I'm here."

I snorted. "Well expect it back anyway. I'm no charity, Edward. I don't need funding. In fact, I'll pay you back with interest."

"Are you purposely goading me?"

"Are you purposely pissing me off?"

"If you learned to accept a gift..."

"And if you learned what exactly a gift is..."

"You quit your job."

"And?"

"You're obviously going to need something to float you, Bella."

"Five hundred grand and counting is not 'floating', Edward! It's excess!"

"You're obviously putting it to good use so what's the problem?"

"I'm just trying to spend it all before it starts accumulating and there's no grey area of what's mine and what's yours! And while we're on this subject, how dare you?"

"How dare I?"

"Yes! How dare you put your name on my account without my permission? A joint account is a consensual decision! Not one you make by yourself because you feel like it."

"You think I'm doing this simply because I feel like it?"

"Aren't you?"

I would be lying if I said I didn't see it coming, if I said I wasn't rooting for it to happen sooner, but O sweet Gods of satisfaction and relief, feeling his lips attack mine after so long apart was like sparkling water to a parched throat. So soft and supple and sculpted, his mouth was made for me to worship, even under his rough and bruising kisses. I yielded immediately, sinking into him, feeling him, and when I finally reached out to touch him, hesitantly, I moaned as I pulled him to me and stroked his back from beneath his shirt as he licked and played with my lips, reacquainting himself with the taste and texture as I did the same of him. His hands drifted from their place around my ribs to follow the curve from my waist to my hips and around to fill his palms with my bottom, lifting and dragging my body into his so my every line met his. We were clutched to each other in the most delicious way, our legs weaved through one other's and hips connected while our kiss had never been anything more than chaste put passionate. When his tongue finally found its way to me to brush along the seam of my lips in askance I sighed as our breaths mingled, swooned as our tongues danced. It was a good thing he held me up or I would have fallen over. Sensing this, he begrudgingly pulled away, but only barely as he flowered kisses along my cheek and chin, refusing to leave my face.

"Edward," I called. He was driving me insane and back.

"_Merde_, I've missed this stubborn head and that smart mouth of yours, love. More than you could possibly fathom."

"I've missed _you_," I whispered.

He scooped me up so I sat on the sink and caught me in a tight embrace, holding me in that way that made that constant ache I'd had for three long months disappear. "I missed you too, sweetheart."

_Show me_, my subconscious begged, but I squashed the thought at once. A kiss was one thing, it was acceptable, but the second we indulged in anything more intimate between us, we'd be neglecting the issues that so clearly sat between us, paving over our problems with sex. Then there was where I stood emotionally rather than sexually. I obviously still wanted him but when there was no guarantee that he would stay I was only setting myself up to fall down again. We had to clear the air, first and foremost. If anything were to come after then so be it, but this conversation was a long time coming.

Reluctant as it gets, I unwound myself from him and gave him my most stern face. "Let's talk."

With him folded into the twin of my comfort chair I poured the wine he'd conspicuously left for on my counter into a glass, forlornly opting for juice for myself, and sat waiting as he stared at me, face in his hand, head tilted. I didn't even think to tell him to cut to the chase; I had missed his eyes on me, the warm and longing glances that made my skin flush with pleasure, but when his gaze focused on his mother's ring that sat dutifully on my hand I would swear I saw the crotch of his pants jump. I was staring right back, eating him up with his new-ish black leather jacket, silk shirt and Levi combo. Oh, could he wear a pair of Levi's. The longer we sat though, the smokier his gaze became, and if I waited too long and thought too much there wouldn't be any hope for words on either of our parts.

"It's been too long since I've seen you." He shocked me by speaking first. I gripped my glass a little tighter. "I really have missed you, _ma __belle_."

I fixated on his thigh as I swallowed. I wasn't the one who left. "Where have you been?"

"Business as usual. You know how it is."

I did. "Anything specific?"

"Not particularly," he shrugged. "I want to know, Edward. What have you been doing for three months? That's a lot of time to have been doing nothing."

"I'm more interested in what you've been doing. You look...different. Better. Thin..." he gave me a pointed look, "but healthy enough."

I shook my head and set the glass down. Don't do that. Don't turn the attention away from yourself. "Why are you here, Edward?" I asked, and we both blinked at my bluntness. "Is there some agenda to fill by showing up here or did you just come to chat and catch up?"

He didn't answer.

"Because if that's the case then I'll walk you to the door now."

He just sat there, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly in a smile, and I swore his expression held some pride in it before he settled into the chair to get more comfortable, saying with his body that he wasn't going anywhere.

"No, love. There's no agenda in my being here right now. If I was being honest, I had no intention in ever seeing you again after France. I didn't mean to show up on your doorstep. I suppose I just...wandered here."

I ignored the weight in my chest and nodded. Finally, some answers. "What were you doing before you came here?"

He shrugged.

"Edward."

A sigh. "Business, Bella."

I raised a brow.

"Listen, _belle_, I understand that you're curious but forgive me if I don't feel implied to answer your queries. Especially when the matters don't concern you."

"Okay," I said, and I stood and made a beeline for the door. I had it opened wide as I stood aside for him, and clarity didn't hit him for a long minute. Very slowly and deliberately, he eased out of the chair and stalked over to the foyer, one hand coming around my waist to pull me into him while the other closed the door again, and he rested his lips on my forehead. I stood stiff in his arms, not prepared to push him but certainly not going to respond to his affections.

"Is it strange that I'm incredibly hard for you right now?"

I grunted.

"You're right. I'll behave. Don't be upset with me. Come, I'll answer you now, honestly."

I wore my skepticism all the way back to my chair, and held on even still as he bumbled with where to start, what to say, and what to leave out.

I gave a short nod. "Why were you in Pakistan?"

"More of the same - business. Before you detract your claws, no, the nature of my business is something I have never shared with you and never will. I'll keep you as far away from corruption as I can get you."

"See, Edward, that's not your responsibility anymore, okay? You don't have that right to keep my from anything. I'm not a captive bound to you anymore. You're in MY chair, in MY house, in MY domain, with ME. As equals, or as nothing."

His face hardened and he scratched the back of his neck with his lips pursed. Then he cursed and fidgeted, unsure of how to deal with rebellious Bella. I straightened in my seat a bit.

"Trading, Bella," he sighed eventually.

"What kind of trading?"

His eyes snapped to mine. "You know what kind."

I shrugged. "Refresh my memory."

"Is there a purpose to this meaningless questioning?" he snapped. "Because I'm starting to think maybe I should have brought my lawyer with me."

"I just want to know what you were doing."

"Why?"

"Well why are you here?" I challenged. "Because I can only think of three reasons myself."

"Care to share?"

"One, you're here to sweep me off my feet again."

"Plausible."

"Two, you're making sure I've kept my mouth shut about our past dealings."

He made a face. "Cold."

"Or three, you're here to kill me. Loose ends and all that."

The last was a shock to his system, and he watched me with startled eyes before they narrowed into slits and he pinned me to my seat. His voice was quiet. "You think I'm here to kill you?"

I shrugged. "I think you're here for one of the three reasons I gave you. _Are_ you here to kill me?"

"No," he shook his head, and I shrugged again. "Do you think so low of me?"

"I don't think low of you at all; I'm just looking out for myself. I'm looking for early signs of if I should get my gun or not."

His mouth twitched despite himself. "You have a gun?"

"Had a strange desire to learn how to shoot when I got back; paid for lessons, bought a gun."

"I'm not here to kill you, Bella. And I'd like to see you shoot."

"That can be arranged if need be."

He looked like he wanted to laugh but contained himself. My ego thanked him.

He sobered quickly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends," I said cautiously. "What?"

"Do you believe I have ill intentions of being here, _belle_? Tell me. If I'm making you uncomfortable in any way I'll leave you alone, I swear it. I don't want you to feel unsafe in your own home."

I thought about that for a moment and downed the rest of the contents in my cup, organizing my thoughts.

"No..." I said slowly. "I don't think you have ill intentions. But I can't figure out why you would come back after you'd ridden yourself of a burden, which is why I came up with those three reasons. And, truthfully, I'm uneasy about all three items on my list and am trying to figure out where your head's at, where I should draw the line and protect myself."

"You're uneasy about me sweeping you off of your feet?"

My barrier chipped at the edges at the faint note of pain in his expression. "No. Well, yes...no. Kinda."

His smile looked almost sad and I floundered. "I...um, by 'yes' I-I mean I don't know if I can ever be brought back into what we went through in Europe, Edward. That's your life, you know? I'm not cut out for such a high risk game, as we both know. I barely survived it my first go around. You know I lo—"

I cut off sharply, my mouth snapping closed audibly and I scowled at the ground. I almost said it. I almost said it. His intense gaze seemed to intensify at my unfinished statement, and he leaned forward slightly in his seat, inched closer. "I know what, _belle_?" he asked softly, and I shuddered. "What do I know?"

I shook my head frantically. "In any case, I won't be a part of that world anymore, Edward. And if that means that I can't be a part of your world as a result then so be it."

"And if I told you that that world no longer exists for me? What then?" I really wished he would stop looking at me like that. My thoughts were scattered as it was.

"Then... Then... Wait. What do you mean it no longer exists? What are you talking about?"

His mouth curved a little. "I mean I gave up on the trade business, is what I mean."

My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"I mean why did you give up on your trade business, is what I mean."

"Did I need a reason?"

"Well you had a reason for taking part of it in the first place, didn't you?"

"Yes, and since that reason is taken care of, I quit."

I sniffed. "Whoo! Get a whiff of all that vague up in here! I might have to open a window."

He was trying very hard not to laugh but failing. His smile was infectious and lightened the mood in the slightest but most welcoming way.

"You're nosier than you used to be."

"No, I was nosy then, too. I just refrained from questioning you in fear of being threatened with my life."

"A valid point. Aro's dead."

My mouth flopped open. Then closed. And opened again. Closed once more. I was giving him my best impression of a land born fish and he was enjoying it immensely. He waited patiently as I restrung myself together.

"Dead?" I squeaked. I cleared my throat. "How'd he die? What happened?"

"I killed him?"

"Why?"

"Would you have preferred him alive?"

"No, no," I amended quickly, pulling a leg under me and holding my chin in my hand. "That's...good news. Does that make me a bad person for saying so?"

"Not at all. Especially since he was making every effort to take your life in his final days."

"And you're the reason he didn't get to?" I asked quietly. "You knew and stopped him?"

"Ah, Bella, baby, I can't take you looking at me like that and be expected to stay in my seat. I can't say I only did it for you, sweetheart. I had personal reasons."

That didn't make me any less grateful. In my recuperation I never let my mind wander to Italy, not once, because the only thing to come out of the thought was Aro and his brothers' reactions to me, to my sudden departure, to my defiance to lay down and bend to them. Aro was a sad, bitter human being who liked to make anyone the least bit deserving suffer, and if he ever got his hands on me again then that would be the end of it. He had powerful, powerful connections, seemingly an entire world at his whim to command, and if he wanted me back, wanted to make me pay for spitting in the face of his "hospitality" then there was nothing I could do about it. No therapist could change that, no amount of reluctant police involvement could prevent it, and the shortage of overbearing six foot tall cave dwellers wasn't much help either. Hope was a very bleak thing in such a situation, so I simply cut my mind from it entirely, didn't let it affect me.

Him telling me this was the greatest release of anxiety I'd ever felt, after being free of James and Jacob obviously. I desperately wanted to feel Edward's reassuring strength around me now, the need rushing down my spine and causing me to just barely shiver. He noticed of course, he always noticed. I was feeling again, feeling the things I'd had locked up for three months without a backward glance as I moved on with my life. They banged at their confinements with brutal force, the echoes creating a matching tattoo on my heart. He _would_ say it wasn't for me, and I wouldn't be so vain as to hope that his actions were, but he was always downplaying what he did for me. He thought the word "save" meant a debt was owed, and he didn't want me to think I owed him anything; it was evident in his reaction to me wanting to return his money. He simply didn't see it as I did.

His voice jolted me back to my cluttered living room full of boxes, the sultry music of Peggy Lee, and the curious male across from me.

"You're safe, baby," he said softly, as if the words weren't meant for me. "Nobody can hurt you now."

Nobody but you.

Anger stole me suddenly, and the unending urge to appease the sting in the back of my eyes would not abate. This wasn't good. I was losing myself again, to him. It was all white, puffy clouds and long, translucent rainbows until he walked out that door and I was left with the image of his back again. Letting him go the first time wasn't so bad. I'd believed that our separation would put an end to the sick infatuation I felt for the man, that the overwhelming amount of emotion I felt for him would cease to exist when he wasn't the only person I could trust that surrounded me, and, for a while, that had felt true.

But it wasn't.

I still felt for him what I did a lifetime ago. I still wanted him as I did before. I craved his infuriating and intelligent mind, his wonderful and sinful body, and his wounded but prideful soul called to me. I handled our first departure just fine.

A second time though... I could make no guarantees about a second time. Because now there was even deeper connection between the two of us. One that I had wrapped around my head firmly but couldn't get my heart to understand until he showed up. My fingers flew to my chest to calm my rapid heartbeat, then to my abdomen in pure instinct. I would not pressure him into a decision. I wouldn't be able to stand it if he saw being with me as an obligation over anything else. But this had to end right now. We either broke this off cleanly or...or...

"Why did you come here, Edward?" Blunt, straight to the point. Yes. "To tell me about Aro? To give me more money? What?"

My change in demeanor must have thrown him because other than his eyes widening he didn't react, but then his eyes threw sharp, poison tipped daggers at me. "This isn't about the money or Aro. And you will not pay me back, Bella. That money doesn't mean anything to me, I won't say that again."

"But what do I mean to you?"

He balked, and if it was even possible I would swear that he blushed as he rubbed his neck and stared past me to the setting sun outside. Oh. Oh my. I wanted to grab him by the ears and study the coral stained skin like it was the cure to every disease known to man. He would hate to hear me call him cute or adorable but jeez. I dug my fingers into the fabric of my clothes to maintain the steel that was dissipating faster than it should have been. I wanted him even more than I did fifteen seconds ago. Fucking fantastic.

His mouth parted as he struggled to say something, then closed as he furrowed his brow heavily. You're killing me here. "I..." he started, licked his lips, then his eyes shifted to mine, lingered for a moment, and bounced back to the window while he palmed away at his neck as if rubbing it would bring him the answers he looked for. "Fuuuuuck," he cursed under his breath, avoiding my gaze at all costs now. I wasn't hurt or even upset while he struggled with himself. I was actually rather amused, going as far as biting my lips together to hide my smile. The pink in his cheeks fascinated me as it darkened and darkened. It was hard, so very hard, to be formal when the dreaded "L" word was bursting in my chest, filling me up to full and wriggling about under my tongue. I groaned to myself, a quiet noise that was drowned out by the ever blessed stereo in the foyer, and for once I actually thought he didn't notice.

Finally, minutes later, he sighed and let his eyes drift shut, eyebrows knit together as he sat tensely. I didn't push or offer anything. He had to muddle through this on his own, ball in his court.

"Baby," he breathed, and there was a subtle amount of pain behind the word that had my mirth evaporate instantly. I tensed too. When he opened his eyes the sadness I saw before was there and I didn't know what to make of it. I looked away. "Please look at me?" he asked. "Please?"

I did, and traitorous, unwelcome tears rolled over my cheeks and hit the back of my fingers. He was up in an instant, striding to me with purpose and getting down on one knee as he pulled my face into his hands to brush his lips over the tracks of tears, across my lips, over my forehead. It was all so heartbreakingly tender. It made my head hurt, my chest ache. "Don't cry, _belle_. I never want to see you cry again. I'm sorry."

I gasped brokenly, and a sob ripped through me as he pulled me closer, crushed me into him. I hooked my arms around him and clung to his broad shoulders, breathed him in and kissed his collar. Why was I in so much pain? I both wanted to hold onto him forever and never see him again. So conflicted. So conflicted.

I didn't help my confusion as I blindly sought his lips, kissing him at first softly, begging him, then harshly, possibly bruising us both as I claimed him, swallowing his moan as he did mine. I bit, licked, and sucked him until I was pulling on his clothes, wondering why he even bothers with being clothed around me. I wanted him more than I wanted air in my lungs. I wanted his powerful frame beneath me as I branded him with my body. I wanted him to be mine.

More sobbing, more tears, I mumbled unintelligibly between my kisses, telling him everything and nothing and whatever was in between those. He only nodded and kissed me back, shushing and caressing me at all the right times, in all the right places, gentle as could be.

"I'm sorry, _belle_," he whispered, when I calmed slightly. "I'm so very sorry."

I nodded slowly, hiccoughed, and said, "I know. I forgive you."

"Thank you."

It had to have been at least an hour to pass as we held onto one another in silence, no words, just reverent touches and loving strokes. He was on both knees eventually, his head in my lap as he hugged me around the waist, and my hands buried in his unruly hair, nails grazing his scalp the way I knew he liked. The strands were much longer than they used to be, some of it falling into his eyes so he had to push it back every so often. Still soft though. I loved the texture of his hair, envied it even. After a while I suspected that he'd fallen asleep, so I didn't expect his quiet voice when he spoke to my belly. He spoke slowly and sweetly, his words making the tears well up again. I sighed remembering the first time he said them to me, purred as he repeated them now exactly as he had before:

"Your innocence reels in the animal in me. Your honesty counters every lie I've ever told. You're so strong you make me look bad in comparison. My world is brighter with you around me. Every time you speak you spark something dead within me. I die whenever I see you in pain. I could murder without end in sight when you doubt yourself. You-"

"Stop," I whispered, and I held my palm fast over his mouth with a small smile before he could say anymore. "Just stop."

When I was sure he wouldn't continue I released him, then lifted his head until we were somewhat eye level, tucking an errant lock of dirty bronze behind his ear as he stared and I stared right back.

"I love you," I finally told him, and I felt raw and revived as I said it. The words were clean and crisp and untainted. There were no knives or guns at my back and no threats looming on the horizon. I told him honestly, surely, because I meant it, and Stockholm Syndrome had nothing to do with it. I wasn't a captive; I was Isabella Swan - my own woman. Although our history was far from ideal, far from romantic, I somehow managed to fall in love with him. I could never forget the man who'd taken me away from what I knew to show me the dark side of the world. Such ugly truths, such ugly people, could never be forgotten. But I could forgive the man who spent day and night trying to protect me from those evil forces, could forgive the man that gave up whatever life he'd lived before to keep me safe. I knew it would have been easier for him to just shoot me and be done with it, but he hadn't.

What had he said in Jessica's apartment in Marais? Ah, yes: "I tend to finish what I've started." He made it seem cold and impersonal but his tone didn't match his actions, his expressions, his kisses and embraces and the way he made love to me or held me afterward. No. It didn't fit how right it felt when our skin touched or how his eyes shone when he told me I was beautiful. Not in the mischievous upturn of his sensual mouth during our banters or the fearsome scowls he gave when we argued. There was nothing impersonal about these things. Everything, even nothing, felt like something with this man. Even now, as he traced the bones of my cheeks with his thumbs and massaged the line of my jaw, I saw nothing impersonal in the way he looked at me. In fact, it looked like...

"I love you too."

Oh.

Oh.

Ah, God. My chest was so tight. My heart was racing too fast. Ahh...too good. It felt too good.

"Say it again," I whispered, letting the tears fall freely onto his fingers, letting him stroke my mouth with his. Yes, I wanted to taste his words as he spoke them, to know their taste, texture and smell. I would connect the words to as many of my senses as possible so I could never forget them, those measly, beautiful four words. "I love you too, my Bella," he murmured, and I sighed. I was floating. "The word doesn't seem adequate enough to correctly describe how I feel about you but it will have to do. You asked me how I ended up here earlier. I told you I wandered, which is the truth, and decided to see how you were doing, what you'd been up to.

"I really am the epitome of stupidity sweetheart," he said breezily, and I snorted in response, my smile slow and blissful. "I should have known the very second I saw you again would be my undoing, because it was. I had managed to extricate any and all thoughts of you for the longest time. I continued the life I lived pre-Bella, and the only time I had to face you was in my dreams, when I was distracted or tired or sleeping I thought of you. I both loathed and looked forward to those times.

"My beautiful, stubborn girl - you just refuse to stay out of my mind, no matter how much distance I put between us or where I go or what I do. I wanted you back in my life no matter the cost, and I almost gave into my idiocy and came for you. But I had to cut my ties to anything that would endanger you first. I owed you that. So it started with James and Jacob in Marseille, then Aro in his own bedroom, followed by Caius who was like the devil at Aro's back. Marcus lives as he means you no harm, and I have his word that he wants nothing of you. "For a while Volterra fell wholly on my shoulders. It was mine but, of course, I didn't want it. I only wanted you. So I divvied up every fucking penny in the place and gave it all to everyone who ever worked for the Volturi. For some the money was payment, for others it was a vow of silence. Everyone in that building easily walked out of there over a million dollars richer. Even the maids." He gave me a pointed look. "I knew you wouldn't like me just dropping that kind of money on you, and I knew your government would have a field day with the sudden income, so I deposited it in your account in increments."

"But I don't want the mon-"

He placed his thumb over my mouth and shook his head sternly. "_Everyone_ who worked there got their pay, Bella. _Everyone_. Even your friends have a tidy amount sitting in their hands now. You work; you get paid. That's usually how it goes, is it not?"

He waited until I gave a short, grudging nod to move his hand. "And the money is clean, I swear. I swept it all at the casino."

"Laundered it, you mean?" I said with an eye roll.

He shrugged. "When it's clean, it's clean. Back to the point though," he skimmed the tip of his nose across my cheek, "I took Volterra apart piece by piece until there was nothing left. It's amazing how quickly such a thing can be done when one is determined enough. You're safe now, and anyone who ever knew about you or your dealings with the mess I made has been taken care of. Legally and of their own free will, of course."

I shook my head and pulled away to look into his eyes. "I'm not worried about myself, Edward. I'll be fine. But you... You're likely to have pissed off more than a few people in your lifetime. What about you?"

"No need to concern yourself with that either. No one wants to mess with a dead man."

I blanched. "What?" "I'm dead," he said, as if the answer was so plainly simple.

I stared at him.

He sighed. "_Merde_, Bella, I was only teasing you. I meant that I faked my death while I was in Pakistan. Big, fiery explosion in the middle of nowhere. Made sure no one would find the site for a few days to give me time to really disappear for a while. So, according to the FIA of Pakistan, you are technically speaking to a dead man."

I scratched my elbow, unsure of how to feel about that.

"Basically, sweetheart," he lowered my head to briefly meet his lips, "I've started all over. Edward Anthony no longer exists in this world. But Edward Masen is alive and well... and very much in love with a Miss. Isabella Swan."

My heart lurched, lungs expanded on an inhale, and I smiled shyly. I cleared my throat to whisper, "And Miss. Isabella Swan loves you, too. Speaking on her behalf, she would also like to know if..." I paused to seize my lower lip, steeling myself. "If this means what she thinks this means...?"

He smirked. "And what would that be?"

"If...we can finally be, you know... together?" I was more than likely giving my best impression of a tomato. He was more than a little amused.

"Well that depends."

I scowled. "On?"

"Well, I feel I might need your friends' stamps of approval on this one so..." He sprung to his feet and was somehow holding my phone in his hand as he scrolled through it. I was too stunned to say anything, let alone steal it back from him. He touched the screen. He put it on speaker. It rung.

And rung. And rung.

And then someone answered.

"Hello?" Alice's voice. _Alice's voice_...

"Hello again, little sister." _LITTLE SISTER_...!

"Oh, hi, Edward! Wait. This is Bella's number. Does this mean...? _Rose! Get over here! _ _It's Edward!_ On Bella's _phone! Move your ass, woman!_ So you told her, then!?"

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, I told her."

"Well, what did she say?" Rose's voice said.

"She said it back."

"And then!?" Alice was screeching.

"I told her I needed your approval on if we can be together or not. I'm not sure what would happen to me if I didn't tell the three of you."

Three...?

Oh.

Oh...

"You needn't even have to ask, dear," Esme said sweetly. The tears were just falling and falling now. "Treat her as if she was the most precious thing on this earth, or you'll have me to deal with, do you understand, Mr. Masen?"

He gave a sheepish smile and color danced over his face. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Have fun, you two."

Al protested shrilly in the background. The line died. I stood on shaky feet, approached him, stared up in awe. "How long?" I whispered.

"A few months now," he answered, gauging me, walking on egg shells.

"Alice and Esme...?"

He nodded. "I know about them, yes."

"For a few months now?"

"For a few months now."

"How do you feel?" I asked, my emotions running rampant and wild inside.

His face softened as he took my wrist and drew me closer, stroked my fingers. "Good. I feel pretty good. I'm still adjusting but being around those two feels..."

"Natural?" I supplied.

"Yes, natural. Even with Rosalie."

I nodded. It felt like that for me too. It was why I loved them so dearly. "So what now?"

"So now," he drew me into him, walked us backward so my ass bumped into the edge of the desk, leaned over to capture my mouth with gentle pulls, "I'm going to ask you to let me back into your life, Miss Swan. I miss you, I'm hopelessly in love with you, and I want to protect you for as long as you'll have me. Accept me, baby. Let me take care of you."

I shuddered in his arms, wiped my tears into my wrists. "I can take care of myself perfectly fine," I challenged shakily, "thank you very much."

He chuckled. "I know you can, baby. Let me help though. You're going to exhaust yourself with all that pride."

I rolled my eyes. "Look who's talking."

"Mm. That would be me. I have enough ego for the both of us. You can tuck yours away for now."

"But do you have enough ego for three?"

His brows knotted, and it was now or never. If he took what I had to say in stride then I would take him without question, and if he didn't...well then, it was amazing while it lasted. Here we go...

"I'm pregnant," I murmured to his chest, eyes attached to his collar, to the light smattering of hair that peeked from the cut of his shirt.

"Come again?" He was just as quiet, and many times more still, rigid even. I closed my eyes. Stay strong, girl, stay strong. If it wasn't meant to be then it wasn't to be. If it came down to my unborn child and the man I loved then I refused to choose between the two. My palm curved around the slight bump of my abdomen, drawing strength from the protrusion.

"I'm pregnant," I repeated, meeting his dark gaze now. I couldn't make heads or tails of his expression.

"For how long?"

"A little over three months." The words bounced around the walls, echoed in the room, pricked at my skin. The time length barely registered on his face, made no change in him. What are you thinking? I've never wanted to know more than at this moment.

"Three?" I nodded surely. "We never used protection, Edward. Not once." "Yes, I know."

"Are you angry?"

That seemed to get his attention. He looked at me quizzically. "No."

"No?"

"No. Why would I be?"

"Well...because I'm pregnant."

He raised an eyebrow and mirth curved his mouth. "So I'm supposed to be angry that your body works properly?"

"Don't make jokes about this, Edward. This is serious."

"Yes, it is, I apologize. No, I'm not angry. If anything I'm..." He started staring off again, but he was watching me while he did it which made me fidgety.

"Hello? Earth to Edward? Anyone up there?" I rapped his temple a few times, and on the third knock he caught my fingers, blinked back to awareness, then kissed my fingertips. "Forgive me."

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly. Minutes passed in silence. I got no answer. He didn't seem distant, which was a good sign, but he didn't look very excited either. I didn't know where this was going but I wanted the upper hand when it happened. I twisted out of his arms and pushed him away a bit, giving myself some space. He didn't seem to like that very much.

"I don't want to turn out like my father did, Bella," he finally said, and I wanted to hold him again almost immediately. "What he did to my mother and I..." he shook his head. "I don't want—"

"Do you plan on leaving me for someone else?" I snapped, and his eyes widened, first in shock, then in rage.

"Of course not. What do you take me for?"

"Then stop doubting yourself. You are not your father, Edward. You may have similarities but you are not him. Not to say that he was a bad man but what he did to you and your mother was wrong. No one deserved to be abandoned like that, especially not under the circumstances. I don't know the details, I don't want to know them, but I'm going to let you know now - if you have even the slightest doubt that you can't handle this with me then you should leave. I won't have seeds of uncertainty planted in the home where I plan to raise my..." I swallowed, "_our_ child."

Now there were too many emotions scrolling across his face. I couldn't pinpoint just one. I couldn't know what he was thinking.

"I will not hold it against you if you don't think you can handle this, okay?" I said more quietly, subdued. I was preparing for a goodbye, if I was being completely honest. It hurt less, for some reason, now that we had all of our feelings out and in the open. If he left, at least I will have known that my love wasn't one-sided, that I wasn't just a naive girl in over her head with a Superman complex. "Who said I can't handle this?" He bristled visibly.

"Well, I wasn't implying that you couldn't handle it, just that I would understand if you didn't want to."

"Well sorry to disappoint you but it's going to take more than a child to pry me away, sweetheart. Come here, let me see you."

I stepped forward, leaning back slightly to give him a better view, and very slowly he sank to his knees as he lifted my shirt to bunch below my breasts, eyes riveted to my belly as he stroked a finger over the slightly rounded top of it, down the side. I wasn't showing much, and you would hardly know I was pregnant unless you were up close or you touched my stomach. It was pretty hard. I stood fixated on the expression of Edward's face though. He looked to be in wonder. I wanted to cry again.

"How long exactly, sweetheart?"

"Fourteen weeks."

"I still can't believe it."

"Believe what?" I sniffled behind my hand.

He shook his head. "That there's a child inside of you. And that that child happens to be mine. It's...unbelievable."

I smiled. I smiled so hard it made my face hurt. "You're going to be a father, Edward. Congrats."

He looked up then, and I saw something I'd only ever seen from him once before: wet lashes. He...

He was...

Ohh...

Ohh, I can't take it.

Without another word I pulled Edward to his feet and crushed my mouth to his, throwing my arms around his neck and coaxing him out of his stillness. It took a moment but he responded, moving slowly and unsurely, but his lips made to accommodate mine, taking over in a gentle seduction that made my toes curl as he stroked my bare sides and back with his hands, my lower and upper lip with his tongue.

"You can be better than he was," I told him breathlessly, only barely pulling away. "You _will_ be better than he was. I'll help you; you know I will. We've got this, Edward. It's an ace in the hole if I ever saw one."

His answering smile was more than enough to make me believe my own words. "Thank you, sweetheart," his chest rumbled. He kissed my forehead and pulled me close as he stared out the window. We stood there for a while, and I noticed after some time that we were rocking back and forth. Eventually Edward even had the humor to spin me around, slow and in time to the sultry music that flowed over us. I hadn't felt such peace in such a long, long time.

"I noticed before that you were quite the dancer," I said offhandedly. He pulled me closer, kissed my head.

"Years of practice. I noticed before that you prefer to just shuffle awkwardly from side to side." He smirked.

"Years of practice." I gave him my most salacious grin and he laughed.

"I love you," he said, lulling me into the forever of his molten green gaze.

"And I love you," I returned. "Now, show me how much upstairs. Naked. I'll get the snacks."

"We'll be at this for a while then, won't we?"

"Damn right we will."

"I'm a fan of pretzels."

"You'll settle for trail mix."

"Only if I can eat them off of you."

"I'd be insulted if you didn't."

"I love you."

"Love you, too...but I can't bring the snacks if you don't let go of me."

He growled. "Fuck the snacks. I'll do enough eating for the both of us. Three months is too long of celibacy." With that, he tossed me over his shoulder and gave my ass a firm slap, sprinting for the staircase.

"God, you are such a -"

"Neanderthal?"

"Caveman. You are a great, big caveman."

"As long as I'm your caveman, baby, that's all that matters."

He made love to me slowly, tenderly, beyond primal, and his soul was mine to abide openly and limitlessly and five months later I had a better command of who he was then I did of myself, and in the greeting of baby Edward Anthony the Third there were even more facets for me to unearth, to savor and fall in love with. And I did.

The-fucking-End.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Goodness, here come the tears. See that "Complete" at the top of the page? Ugh, it's killin' me. Oh well, at least we got a Happily Ever After, right crowd!?

I have to thank each and every reader who happened upon my little tale of fuckery and I hope you've enjoyed it. There've been some laughs, some tears, some objects of varying fragility have been broken, and we've swooned when we least expected it. I've met some absolutely incredible people along the way, and although there were _many _a chapter of Stockholm Syndrome that made me want to comatose I wouldn't take anything back or change a thing. The many, many beautiful words of encouragement I've received along the way will likely stick with me forever as well, so kisses to those faithful PM'ers and reviewers!

If by some absolute miracle you took a fancy to the writing, stick around! It'll be a while but I have a reel of stories I want to share that will be posted eventually :)

Thank you all so very much for joining me on this ride! Until next time, y'all!


End file.
